


Drowning Mnemosyne

by waxpet



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, Cannibalism, Gore, Horror, Isolation, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome, Vomiting, graphic descriptions of being eaten alive, ill add more as i go and please tell me if i missed anything, unreality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2018-10-16 15:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10573953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waxpet/pseuds/waxpet
Summary: After failing to capture Hiiragi Yuzu, Yuri takes his Standard counterpart back with him. As a prisoner, of course, and a little pet project. Yuya swears he's going to escape from Academia's clutches no matter what it takes - but he fears he's getting used to Yuri's hold.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this back in 2015, i have approx 40k written and its still unfinished. finally picking it back up again after two years. this is a doozy for the love of god read the tags and if you still wanna read this go for your life buddy

“Oh? You’re here already?”

Yuri resists the instinctive urge to shrug, wanting to maintain his intimidating aura. “Don’t question me, Dennis.” In all honesty, Yuri hadn’t planned to be early. Usually he’d take his time and arrive fashionably late; it isn’t like it’ll affect the outcome of his mission anyway. But he’d been struck with something almost like inspiration to show up in Standard a little earlier than necessary. Perhaps it’s curiosity. Perhaps it’s something more.

He stands in front of the railing, staring down at the scene below. Out of the corner of his eye, Yuri sees Dennis do the same. On the icy ground several metres down, half a dozen Obelisk Task Force members surround a girl clad in red. “Why is Serena here?”

“I don’t know,” Dennis answers cheerfully. “Shiunin was supposed to be leading a squad to retrieve her, but he’s gone off somewhere. The squad is definitely his. The Professor wouldn’t send anyone else if he’s sent you.” Of course he wouldn’t. Yuri’s already captured Ruri and Rin by himself with no help required. Even just on his own, he outclasses Obelisk Force in every way. They could be of use as buffers, he supposes, but they’d just get in the way.

“Serena and Yuzu switched clothes a few minutes ago, so that’s Yuzu in the red uniform down there,” Dennis continues. All of a sudden, he seems to remember something important. “Oh, I met Yuya earlier.”

“Yuya?” For some reason, the name feels familiar; unsettlingly familiar. “Who is that?”

“The one I keep telling you about, he looks almost exactly like you. Definitely the exact same face, same body, it’s even stranger up close. I don’t think you’d ever wear goggles.”

“A doppelgänger?” Dennis has mentioned ‘Yuya’ before; a boy Yuri’s age who wears the same face as him. Yuri has always brushed it off as Dennis being stupid again. Besides, the information is hardly important. But now that he is here, and now that Dennis has actually seen Yuya up close, the mere mention of Yuya’s name serves to raise the hairs on the back of Yuri’s neck.

Something in him wants to brush it off again. Something else wants to investigate. The two feelings war with each other. One is madly interested, wondering if this has anything to do with how Ruri and Rin and Serena and Yuzu Hiiragi share a face – and doesn’t that raise even more questions? – and the other side is almost scared, not wanting to know, feeling like finding Yuya would be like going for the cheese on a mousetrap.

He’s already seen Yuto and Yugo, hasn’t he? Granted, Yuri had only spoken a single sentence to Yugo’s face before disappearing, and he’d merely observed Yuto from afar. Neither of those constitute proper interactions. There is a certain feeling that actual interactions will cause something bad, something that Yuri’s rational mind can avoid with ease.

And yet something tugs at him anyway, urging him onwards. It is almost instinctive, somehow, and it curls itself in his gut like fire, whispering enticement in his ears. It could be insanely dangerous if Yuri goes ahead with this, but the temptation of it…

_Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back._

Yuri has never been any good at containing his curiosity, for better or worse. “I’ll seek him out later.”

*

He’s failed.

He’s failed _miserably,_ and Yuri still doesn’t quite understand what had happened. He had been this close to capturing Hiiragi Yuzu after finally becoming bored of tormenting her, and _something_ had happened.

All he knows is that brilliant pink light had shone outwards from her hiding place under the icy ledge, a strange, unpleasant sensation had taken over his body, and then he’d been warped away, for a lack of a better term. Yuri has found himself unceremoniously dumped on the grimy floor of a random back alley, with no trace of Hiiragi Yuzu or the pink light anywhere.

To say the least, he is furious. Yuri has never failed a mission before, not once in his life. It is why the Professor entrusts him with the top-secret missions, the ones of real importance that the rest of the Academia are not privy to. Perhaps the ease he’s had in capturing Ruri and Rin have made him complacent, and that is why Hiiragi Yuzu has slipped through his fingertips.

He’s wasted days dragging himself around Standard, refusing to return to Academia empty-handed. Nonetheless, determination does not magically clear the filth from his clothes and skin, and ambition will not fill his stomach. Yuri had been reduced to using public water fountains at one point, and nearly vomited afterwards.

And he has been careless. Careless in chasing Hiiragi, and careless in wandering the city afterwards. Yuri had caught the tail end of Akaba Himika’s worldwide-broadcasted speech only by chance. The mindless sheep of Standard watching the broadcast fall so easily for Akaba Reiji’s propaganda that Yuri almost laughs. Even if Standard rally themselves to war now, they will still be woefully incompetent when the inevitable invasion comes. Academia has years of formalized training on their side; Standard will have a few rushed months at best.

But Akaba Leo’s son has inherited some of his father’s genius; he deigned to use the footage from his city-wide security cameras (which nobody would question the dubious morality of having in the first place) to show Standard their enemy. Regardless of how different Yuri’s uniform is to the other students of Academia, it is still a uniform from there, and the same stylized Duel Disk would give him away anyway. He’s resorted to skulking through dark alleyways and abandoned warehouses to travel through the city.

Standard’s alleyways are just as filthy as Synchro’s, and it makes Yuri feel almost nostalgic. He’s only been to the Synchro dimension just the once, and not for long, although the gleaming, perfect city built over the disgusting underbelly looked intriguing enough at the time.

He still remembers it so vividly; the stench of dirt and grime, something like boredom as he easily predicted which directions Rin would run to attempt to lose him, how pale her face had gone when he’d backed her into a dead end, flicking the heavy black fabric of his hood just out of the way enough to meet his moronic Synchro clone’s eyes—

That had been how he’d gone unrecognised, wasn’t it? It had been at the Professor’s insistence. For the Synchro dimension to catch even the tiniest sight of Academia could be fatal for their operations; the Xyz dimension has been so easy to conquer because they had been so unprepared.

There is no use in procuring a disguise here, not when Yuri is sure that he’ll faint of exhaustion within the next twelve hours. He will return to Academia if he doesn’t find a sign of Hiiragi Yuzu within the next half an hour.

But it is stupid to delude himself. She is long gone. All he can do is return and hope that the Professor’s rebuke won’t be too cutting.

Unless…

Yuri’s eyes flit over a cheap shop, a dollar store, with a plain black cloak hanging on a rack visible through its messily cleaned windows.

He won’t have to return so empty-handed after all. Granted, it won’t be what the Professor has asked him to retrieve, but Yuri has not the slightest lead on where to look for Hiiragi Yuzu, and he is all about serving his own self-interests.

Akaba Reiji’s commercial has been useful for one thing. Dennis’ pointless babbling earlier also proves to be not such nonsense after all.

Well, the cheap shop employees will be grateful that Yuri is only interested in taking the cloak and not in turning them into cards. That would waste valuable time in hunting his new target.

Directly ahead, the LDS tower gleams in the sunlight.

*

Yuya feels distinctly kind of awkward.

He’s been glancing over at Gongenzaka’s face, which seemingly has every square inch of skin covered in band-aids, for the last few minutes as they are escorted into the higher levels of the LDS tower. He’s trying really hard not to be rude, but… those are some injuries.

Finally, Yuya breaks the heavy silence. “Gongenzaka, your face…”

“I had a serious Duel with Father,” Gongenzaka answers gruffly. “In order to prove my resolve.”

“Ah.” It has distantly occurred to Yuya at some point in time that others’ parents might not be so easily convinced into letting their children join a makeshift army to fight a war in another dimension.

Yuya pushes open the door to the room where the Lancers are meeting, only to find everyone else already inside.

“You’re late, Sakaki Yuya!” Sawatari jeers at him. “It’s a hundred thousand years too early for you to make me wait!”

“I really don’t know if you’re getting at him being early or late with that analogy,” Dennis interjects from beside him.

“Shut up, no one asked you!”

Yuya’s attention is drawn from the impending squabble by Akaba Reiji’s even voice. “You’re all gathered?”

Reiji stands about at the halfway point of a tall, winding staircase that presumably leads to his office. He glances down at them with a professional detachment as he descends.

“So Mr. President arrives at last,” Sawatari scoffs.

Reiji steps off the stairs without even a twitch to acknowledge Sawatari’s comment. The second that he comes to a standstill, Dennis leaps in front of him and gives an enthusiastic salute. “All seven members of the Lancers have been gathered, captain!”

“It’s not seven,” Reiji says flatly.

Dennis’ face falls a little, but he quickly regains his cheer. “Ah, please forgive me. With our captain that’s eight of us!”

“It’s nine,” Reiji states, catching Yuya off-guard. A ninth? Someone they haven’t been introduced to? “Reira will come along with us.”

Reira? Reiji’s younger brother? At the top of the stairs, Reira looks even smaller than usual, with his head bowed and his eyes firmly trained on the floor. Is it really alright to bring a child along on such a dangerous mission?

Evidently, Kurosaki already objects. “We’re not here to play games,” he spits, taking an aggressive step forwards in Reiji’s direction. “A kid like that, fighting Academia with us? He’ll just get in the way!”

Personally, Yuya is more concerned about Reira’s safety than him being an inconvenience.

“Reira’s ability is equivalent to that of any of yours,” Reiji says sharply. “He absolutely will not be a hindrance.”

“Equivalent to us?” Sawatari asks incredulously.

As usual, Dennis remains completely unfazed. “To be held in such high regard by the captain is amazing. How old are you?” he calls up at Reira jovially.

“There’s no way you’re older than an elementary schooler,” Sawatari says. “A Junior Class kid with strength that matches that of Sawatari’s generation – the masters of Pendulum?” Reira turns around to hide his face. “I won’t believe it!”

Wait, what’s that about _“Sawatari’s generation?”_

“Who’s Sawatari’s generation?” Gongenzaka snaps at him. “The first to use Pendulum was Yuya! Don’t act as though you were the one who came up with it!”

Oh, good. What the Lancers really need on their first day of being assembled is bickering. Yuya really does appreciate Gongenzaka defending him as he has done for so many years, but arguing with Sawatari and his self-obsession will be as productive as arguing with a brick wall. Yuya thinks it’d be easier to let Sawatari be stupid about little things as long as he works well with everyone else when it counts.

“I won’t accept this,” Kurosaki spits, immediately drawing the room’s attention back to himself. “A kid like that marching into Academia with us!?”

“We’re not going to Academia,” Reiji states. Almost unnoticeably, Reira makes his way down the staircase and to his brother’s side.

“What did you say!?”

Yuya blinks, and feels the rest of the room share his confusion. But if they aren’t going to Academia, then where else are they going? Shouldn’t Academia be their first priority? That is what the Lancers are _for,_ fighting Academia and rescuing the people who have been imprisoned there.

“We will be travelling to the Synchro dimension.”

“The Synchro dimension!? Not Academia!? _Why!?”_ Yuya can share Kurosaki’s anger here; what about Yuzu? The Synchro dimension is hardly even involved, why are they—?

“The Synchro dimension has not yet been dragged into the war between dimensions. We will recruit comrades there. Our foremost motive is to have them bond with Standard and form an alliance to take on the Fusion dimension together.”

“An alliance?” Gongenzaka exclaims.

“This is no place to talk about such trivial matters!” Kurosaki shouts. “We shouldn’t waste time before entering the Fusion dimension to crush Academia! Isn’t that what the Lancers are for!?”

“I only play games I can win,” Reiji says coldly.

“What!?”

“Expansive preparations are needed to aim for victory. At this stage, we have no chance of defeating Academia if we challenge them in battle.”

Oh, he does have a point. They’ve already had devastating losses against the Obelisk Task Force during the Battle Royal, and if Academia can take down the entire Xyz dimension, it makes sense to want more than nine Lancers to face them. Reiji’s plan has strategic value, at the least.

“Joining forces with you was a mistake,” Kurosaki hisses. “I’ll march into Academia myself and save Ruri.” He begins to walk away, with every stride radiating fury.

“There’s no way you can do it alone,” Serena says, just as he passes her, and Kurosaki immediately halts mid-step. “Academia assembles Duellists from all over the Fusion dimension and provides them with a top-tier education. Every day, they produce tough Duellist soldiers trained in endurance. What can you do by marching in there alone? I approve of Reiji’s plans. For now, we have to be ready for the threat of war and make preparations for victory.”

At this point, she has the whole room’s eyes on her. Something emotional shines through her face as she stares almost imploringly at Kurosaki’s stiff back. “It’s okay. The Professor will treat Ruri well. You’d know that if you saw how he treated me. I look like Ruri, right? And Yuzu.”

Yuzu… Academia better be treating her as well as Serena claims. Yuya doesn’t know if he could take it, knowing that she is being deliberately hurt in her captivity.

“Why does the Professor want to capture those who look like me? Academia capturing Ruri and trying to bring me back… Those were his orders. It’s likely the same with Yuzu. I don’t know what he’s planning to do by gathering us. But we seem to be important to him. That’s why Ruri must be treated with care.”

Kurosaki relents; Yuya can see it in the tiny slump of his shoulders. But Yuya himself isn’t done, not when he worries so for Yuzu’s wellbeing. “What about Yuzu? Will he be careful with Yuzu!?”

“Yuzu isn’t with Academia,” Serena says, like this is an obvious fact that everyone already knows.

_What?_

“Isn’t that right, Reiji?” She raises her voice and turns her intense eyes to focus on Reiji accusingly. “I know that he saw it; that Yuzu disappeared with a Duellist from the Synchro dimension.”

“ _Eeeeeeh!?_ ” Dennis cries, and then claps his hands over his mouth. In all honesty, Yuya wants to copy him. He’s been so sure that Yuzu is suffering in Academia’s hands, and Reiji had confirmed that in their last Duel, so why – that means he was _lying,_ and that Yuzu could be safe, and –

“Is that true!?” Yuya demands of Reiji, feeling his heart race with anticipation. “Yuzu’s really in the Synchro dimension!?”

“It’s true,” Reiji says. “She disappeared with a Duellist from the Synchro dimension. That Duellist took out all of the Obelisk Force Duellist soldiers from Academia that he faced. It was then that I was convinced. We will ally with the Synchro dimension.”

“Yuzu’s in the Synchro dimension,” Serena tells Yuya. The earnest determination in her face is painfully familiar, but Yuzu has never had such an angry crease between her brows. “There’s no mistake. Yuzu helped me. I won’t let her fall into Academia’s clutches!” She must have somehow known that she’s already won him over, and turns to address Kurosaki again. “To make sure that we can save Ruri, we have to form an alliance with the Synchro dimension!”

Kurosaki makes a little disgusted noise under his breath, and finally turns to face them. “I still don’t like the sound of that, but…” But he concedes. Serena nods at him, and Reiji nods in turn.

Yuya’s blood pumps in his veins with new vigour. He’s going to rescue Yuzu. They’re going to rescue Yuzu, and ally with the Synchro dimension, and then they will take on the Fusion dimension to save Kurosaki’s sister and everyone that has been turned into cards. Yuya reaches for his Duel Disk to attach it to his arm, but—

A voice suddenly rings out from the top of the staircase that Reiji and his younger brother had descended from. “Sir? Sir, there’s someone looking for you.” A tall, burly man in a dark suit stands there; Yuya recognises him as Reiji’s assistant. Nakajima, he’s pretty sure his name is.

Yuya blinks. Reiji is still the CEO of an important company, right? Is it really okay for him to take off with the Lancers to another dimension? It’s true that they’ll need his skills, however; both his Duelling abilities and his negotiation and leadership borne from years of controlling a worldwide business.

“They’ll have to wait,” Reiji says flatly.

“Sir, it’s Sakaki Yuya.”

What? Yuya suddenly feels nervous – has his mother decided that he isn’t allowed to leave after all? Or is it someone else after him for some other reason?

“The issues regarding Sakaki Yuya have been dealt with; he is travelling with the rest of the Lancers to the Synchro dimension,” Reiji replies sharply, leaving no room for discussion. If anyone wants to challenge him on this... yeah, nobody's going to challenge him on this.

Nakajima shakes his head. “No, sir, it’s not about him, it _is_ him.” He looks sort of confused at the words as he speaks them, which is quite understandable, because Yuya is right there and not outside.

The Lancers all turn to stare at Yuya curiously. Yuya tries not to squirm. “I’m right here, I haven’t done anything!” he protests.

Surprisingly, Sawatari springs to his defence. “Tell whoever’s saying that’s Yuya out there that they’re a blind idiot! We, the Lancers, are doing something _important_ here, you know!”

Nakajima addresses Reiji directly. “I saw him through the cameras myself, sir. It’s an exact match in every way. Is this…?” He trails off, but Reiji and Kurosaki somehow know exactly what he means.

“Yuya has a doppelgänger from the Xyz dimension,” Reiji announces to the Lancers. “by the name of Yuto. He was one of Kurosaki’s comrades.”

“Was?” Serena repeats, cocking her head to the side.

Kurosaki’s hands clench into tight fists at his sides, and Yuya can see the emotional hurt in the shadows on his face. “He’s dead,” he grinds out. “Yuya has his dragon, and nobody has seen Yuto since before the Battle Royal.” His words are laced with a silent accusation at Yuya, who tries not to wince.

“But if he’s dead…” Dennis’ brows furrow in confusion. “How could he be out there, then?”

Yuya’s mind races, remembering the events of that fateful night, and just what had happened to Yuto before he’d passed on Dark Rebellion Xyz Dragon and his last wish. “It could be Yugo,” he suggests.

Dennis jumps a little. “F-Fusion!?”

Yuya shakes his head. “No, Yugo. He’s a Synchro Duellist that looks just like me. Yuto called him the Pawn of Fusion.”

What if Yugo has been the one to take Yuzu? Reiji hasn’t confirmed anything other than that it was a Duellist from the Synchro dimension, and if it _is_ Yugo…

The room is instantaneously tenser. Kurosaki looks ready to spit on the floor in rage. Gongenzaka puts a large, reassuring hand on Yuya’s shoulder, which is much more calming than he could know. Sawatari seems to be mulling the concept over in silence (for once), and both Tsukikage and Serena are looking at Reiji expectantly. Reira stays put at his brother’s side, holding his stuffed bear close.

Nakajima remains resolute. “Sir, what should we do about him?”

“Bring him in here,” Reiji answers.

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

Reiji holds Nakajima’s gaze for a moment, and that conveys all it needs to. “We’ll send him in.”

He turns and leaves. The Lancers stand silently, some fidgeting, some still as stone. “Hey, Kurosaki, that Yuto guy used Xyz like you, didn’t he?” Sawatari pipes up.

Kurosaki jerks his head in response, not bothering to reply aloud.

“He was the one that attacked me, then!”

Since Kurosaki doesn’t deem this worthy of a reply, Yuya intervenes instead. “Um, yeah. I – the card he gave me, it’s the dragon he used.”

Sawatari harrumphs and blows a stray strand of hair out of his face. “I called him Knight-kun that time. Kind of funny that he’d use that card and play knight for Yuzu, and then you’d take that card and go do the same thing.”

Yuya’s cheeks burn, but he is saved from further humiliation by Reiji’s interruption. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you all to be on your guard.”

“If this person is so dangerous, why would you just let him in?” Serena asks. Yuya very much agrees with her, and from the expressions on the other Lancers’ faces, they do too.

Except for Kurosaki, who is appraising Reiji with dull, resigned anger. “Because he’s going to come in whether we like it or not, and we’re the only ones strong enough to have a hope of taking him down, aren’t we?”

Reiji nods. Kurosaki makes a ‘tch’ noise under his breath and glares at the wall.

Yuya shifts a little closer to Gongenzaka, wanting to say something, but not sure what or how. If this really is Yugo, then… His best descriptor for Yugo, from their first and last encounter, is _volatile_. Yugo is full of rage and irritability, and contains not a lick of reason or capacity for negotiation. Based on that, Yuya can definitely understand why Reiji would just let him through – Yugo will just smash his way through on that white motorcycle anyway. At least this way there is less risk of unprepared people getting hurt.

There will inevitably be a confrontation here, perhaps as soon as Yuya’s counterpart walks into the room. He doesn’t particularly like the thought of an ambush; it’s rather underhanded, but the element of surprise could be the only thing they have on their side.

The door above opens, and a figure arrives at the top of the stairs. All of them instantly look up.

Swathed in a heavy black cloak, with the hood pulled down to obscure most of his face, he descends leisurely. The tension in the room is almost palpable, and Yuya finds himself reaching for his Duel Disk again without even thinking about it. He drops his hand, though, realising that appearing hostile right from the get-go will severely wound their chances of avoiding conflict.

The stranger stops at the base of the stairs and reaches up to lower his hood.

Magenta eyes meet scarlet, and time freezes.

“Sakaki Yuya,” his doppelgänger breathes. It’s barely a murmur, and yet the sound carries across the room as if he’s shouted it at the top of his lungs.

Yuya swallows heavily, feeling his throat go abruptly dry. He doesn’t have a reply; all he knows is that this is definitely neither Yuto nor Yugo. “Who are you?” he whispers.

His counterpart tilts his head to the side, regarding Yuya with some form of amusement. “My name is Yuri,” he answers.

_Yuri._ A fourth. That is the last thing they need; another unknown component that has come seemingly out of nowhere. Yuya doesn’t doubt that Yuri has some sort of agenda of his own. Since he’s gone the easy route of simply coming in to see them, he could be amiable, and yet there is the absolute certainty that something is about to go awfully wrong.

Gongenzaka moves as if to push Yuya behind himself and use his body as a human shield to protect his friend from Yuri’s unnerving stare. Yuya gently puts a hand on his arm and shakes his head. Reluctantly, Gongenzaka stays in place and lets Yuya walk forwards. He has to do this himself; Yuri wears his face, not anybody else’s, and from the almost reverent way Yuri says Yuya’s name, he is here for Yuya and Yuya alone.

Every step Yuya takes is mirrored by Yuri, and they circle each other for a moment, until they slowly come towards each other, less than a metre apart. They never break their mutual stare.

Absently, Yuya wonders why the Lancers haven’t done anything yet. He can feel their restlessness around him, waiting for some sort of signal to spring.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Yuri says, his burning gaze sweeping Yuya up and down. Yuya says nothing in reply; he simply thinks.

Yuya himself is native to Standard. Yuto is – was – from the Xyz dimension, he knows that quite well. And Yugo, although he is the Pawn of Fusion and Yuto’s enemy, is a Synchro-user and thereby from the Synchro dimension.

So that makes Yuri—

Yuri’s hands rise to his collar, fiddling with some sort of latch, and the black cloak slides smoothly off his body like water and pools on the ground around his feet. There has been a certain reason for the disguise – it takes a few seconds for Yuya to register just what that uniform is, but the Duel Disk confirms it.

Academia’s signature style of Duel Disk shines on his arm. _Yuri is from Fusion._

Too late, Yuya jumps backwards, but Yuri catches the dawning realisation in his eyes and acts accordingly. He leaps forwards and grabs roughly at Yuya’s jacket to drag him over, and then locks Yuya in place with an arm around his neck.

The room goes into uproar. Gongenzaka and Sawatari look ready to charge forwards, and Reira clings to Reiji’s leg. Serena, Kurosaki, Dennis, and Tsukikage activate their Duel Disks. The pandemonium comes to a halt when Reiji holds up a hand and steps towards Yuri.

“Let him go,” Reiji says quietly.

Yuri must have done something horrible with his face in response – with Yuya’s face – because the Lancers react before he even opens his mouth. Most notable are Reira and Gongenzaka; Reira flinches and curls in on himself, and Gongenzaka looks ashen.

“Sorry, I can’t,” Yuri answers, sounding the exact opposite of apologetic.

“What does Academia want with Sakaki Yuya?”

“Hmm.” The drawn-out pause sends chills running down Yuya’s spine. Yuri isn’t deliberating on anything; he just wants to keep them on edge. “Not that it’s really any of your business, but I’ve got a special little pet project and he’s a crucial element.”

_Pet project?_ The falsely saccharine way he speaks makes it sound almost like some sort of scientific experiment. Whatever Yuri wants with Yuya, he most likely won’t be whole or sane afterwards. Yuya goes to fight Yuri again, furiously struggling against his hold, but Yuri simply tightens his hold until his forearm is pressing down dangerously hard against Yuya’s windpipe.

The arm holding – strangling – Yuya is the one with Yuri’s Duel Disk on it, so Yuya sees it right up close when Yuri’s hand slams down on something, his fingers flying over buttons too fast for Yuya to really understand what the hell he’s doing until the Disk lights up with oddly familiar blue light.

Yuya’s eyes widen in horror. He knows why he recognises this – it’s the same as when Sora had been forcibly ported back to Academia.

Clamour rises again, but they are simply too late. In all truthfulness, Yuya hopes that nobody will be accidentally taken with them. He fears just what Yuri would do with an unnecessary ‘spare.’

Yuri tilts Yuya’s head to the side to look him in the eyes, and so the very last thing Yuya sees is Yuri’s face, his features a perfect mirror of Yuya’s own, with eyes like brilliant gemstones set into his face, gleaming with captured starlight. Those eyes are cold and calculating, but more disturbingly, endlessly curious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter: general gore warning, graphic depictions of being eaten alive by rats and cannibalism, mould mentioned briefly in like one line if that bothers you

Yuya wakes groggily. He rolls over to instinctively swat at his alarm, but stops when he realises that the usual horrible beeping is absent.

His bed isn’t this big, is it? And his sheets aren’t this thick; they feel more like winter blankets than anything else. But it is summer. Why does he have blankets?

Memories flood back to him.

_The beginning of the Battle Royal, running out of the stadium alongside Yuzu and Gongenzaka and so many of his friends—_

_Searching far and wide for Kurosaki, their meeting interrupted by the Knights of Duels—_

_Blue-uniformed Academia soldiers, their laughter cold and mocking and the red lenses of their masks gleaming with malevolence as they seal people into cards, Heartland all over again—_

_Seething rage and absolute darkness—_

_Waking in possession of a new, monstrous dragon, the crease of concern between Gongenzaka’s brows, Mieru’s whispers of two souls and an endless void trying to swallow them both—_

_Yuzu is gone, gone, gone—_

_Throwing every last piece of grief and anger into his Duel with Reiji, losing miserably and knowing nothing but desolate despair—_

_Shooting Star Yoko, Yusho’s legacy, Smile World—_

_The Lancers—_

_Yuri._

Suddenly fully awake, Yuya sits up and looks around the room. The entire place is pristine white and sparsely furnished. There’s a lingering smell of ammonia stinging at his nose, barely there but enough to be noticeable. In some ways, it almost resembles a hospital ward, but the lack of windows and the little keypad where a doorhandle should be show its true nature. _This is a cell._ Yuya jumps out of bed and pushes and tries to pull at the door, but as he expects, it does nothing. Randomly mashing buttons on the keypad also proves useless.

Yuya settles for pacing around the limited space. The room is hardly cramped; it’s actually bigger than his bedroom at home, and yet it is almost suffocating just the same. There are two large metal panels on one of the walls, bulky and stone cold to touch. Yuya cranes around them as best he can, certain there is something underneath, but if there is, he can’t see it.

Perhaps the silence is the worst. Cool air wafts into the room through vents, but the usual hum of an air conditioning machine is absent. (The vents are too high and too small to try to crawl through.) The only noise is Yuya’s feet on the tiles. Oddly enough, someone’s taken off his shoes, but not his socks.

Frustrated, Yuya blows an errant strand of hair away from his eyes and walks back over to the door. Maybe he can guess the combination for the lock; it isn’t like he has anything better to do.

He goes to jab in another random code, but the door hisses quietly and slides aside before he can. Instead, Yuya’s fingers poke another set of fingers. Those fingers catch his and lay them against each other, pinkie to pinkie and palm to palm. A perfect match.

Feeling disturbed, Yuya snatches his hand back and curls it into a tight fist at his side. “Go away.”

“My, my,” Yuri murmurs. “Are you always this rude in the mornings?” He doesn’t look offended in the least; if anything, he looks like he enjoys Yuya’s response. Dammit. Now that Yuri knows that it makes Yuya incredibly uncomfortable, he’ll do it again and again. He seems like the kind of jerk to do something like that.

Wait.

The door is open.

There is nothing stopping Yuya from just running away.

Well, Yuri is kind of standing in the doorway, but if he has Yuya’s body as well as his face, then it’ll take one good shove to the chest to get him out of the way. Yuya has been shoved around plenty of times after his father’s disappearance, and he’d quickly learnt how to curl in on himself to avoid being winded or seriously hurt. If he is to try to fight Yuri now, they’d probably be evenly matched, but Yuya will have the element of surprise.

He shoves Yuri hard, and doesn’t bother to stay long enough to read the expression on his face. Even wasting a second could be the thing that decides if Yuya gets away or not. He runs as fast as he can, his shoeless feet smacking almost painfully against the cold stone floor. At least he has socks.

It’s only a few seconds before Yuri’s voice, unnerving as it was the last time, rings out through the hall. It’s like hearing some sort of eerie recording that Yuya has never made. “Oh? We’re playing hide and seek?” There is an obviously fake childish delight in his tone, and it only serves to make Yuya sprint faster. “If that’s how you want to play, Yuya.” He starts counting down slowly, rhythmically, with an undeniable eagerness in the sound. If Yuya is close enough to hear ‘one,’ then he’s done for.

He doesn’t hear ‘one.’ Yuya runs and runs, taking as many turns as possible, hoping that he’ll manage to lose Yuri in the twisting maze of hallways. It’s a stupid hope. Yuri has lived in this fortress for god knows how long, and he will be able to navigate it easily.

Already, Yuya has no idea how he could get back to where he’d started, even if he wanted to. There is something distinctly unsettling about the fact that he’s failed to see another person yet.

The absolute silence is only broken by the loud sound of his own pounding footsteps and exhausted panting, magnified. Sprinting at his fastest speed the whole time hasn’t been a good idea – he should’ve only done it for the initial escape, and then tried to conserve energy when he made it far enough away. He slows a little, trying to give his body a little rest.

Should Yuya’s footsteps echo so loudly? Especially at the speed he’d going at now. Yuya’s feet don’t fall heavily enough on the ground to make that level of noise. His lithe body doesn’t have that kind of weight.

The sound suddenly becomes discordant.

Yuya’s footsteps make the sound that they should, and they are followed milliseconds after by a second set that is almost identical. Except Yuya’s come with the sound of barely-covered flesh slapping against stone, and the second carry the sound of leather soles clicking against the floor.

Yuya’s blood runs cold.

He takes off sprinting again, ignoring how every muscle in his body protests it. His chest seizes tight with both a lack of oxygen and with absolute terror. Yuri has been tracking him perfectly the entire time, and their similarities made it just too easy.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are~!” Yuri’s tone is deceptively sweet, sounding for all the world like he really is playing an ordinary game of hide and seek. “ _Yuya…_ ”

Yuya shivers. He is prey here, he has no illusions about that, but the way Yuri says his name still makes fear catch in the back of his throat like bile. What’s going to happen when Yuri catches him? Will Yuri brush the whole thing off like some sort of game, as his current mood seems to indicate, or does searing anger bubble behind the mask of joviality?

There is no way to defend himself left. Yuya doesn’t have his Duel Disk or even a single card on him, he’s too fatigued to triumph in a physical fight, and he doesn’t have the kind of silver tongue that could manipulate Yuri into letting him go.

“I can hear you, you know.” Yuri’s voice draws closer. Yuya pauses to lean against a wall and catch his breath, taking in the rest of what Yuri says as he does. “You’ll never guess what I’m going to do to you when I catch you.”

Yuya’s eyes widen and he immediately takes off again, but there is an obvious sluggishness in his gait that he can’t shake off no matter how much he tries.

“I can do this all day, but you can’t, can you?” Yuya grits his teeth. Stupid, stupid – he hasn’t thought logically at all, overtaken by fight or flight instinct, and he’s been at a disadvantage right from the start.

He’s completely worn himself out, and it probably hasn’t even been a full hour. The pure adrenaline in Yuya’s blood is the only thing keeping him on his feet at this point, and both he and Yuri know it.

Yuya takes a sharp left turn into a hallway, spying a door at its end. It’s the first door he’d seen, and by the way Yuri’s footfalls suddenly become a lot quicker, probably an actual exit.

It’s a substantial risk to take, considering that the hallway is a dead end otherwise, but Yuya has already made his choice. He skids to a halt and nearly collides with the door in his haste. His hands fly to the handle and jerk it down to open it.

The handle moves a little, but otherwise steadfastly remains in place. A cold sweat breaks out over Yuya’s body as he furiously tries to open the door, but it proves to be solidly locked no matter what he does.

Yuya doesn’t even need to turn around to know that Yuri is only a few metres behind him. His presence is impossible to ignore, and his malicious gaze sears holes into the back of Yuya’s neck. Slowly, Yuya turns around, mentally bracing himself for whatever pain is soon to come.

Yuri takes a step towards him.

Yuya takes a step back. The back of his head knocks into the wall behind him, and the doorhandle digs painfully into his spine. The hallway is wide enough for an adult to pass Yuri on either side; Yuya needn’t give in here.

He sprints forwards, but doesn’t even make it a full metre past Yuri when the leather toes of Yuri’s boot connect with the back of his knees. The shock of pain and sudden jolt is enough to throw Yuya off balance and cause him to tumble to the floor.

Before Yuya can even think about struggling to his feet, Yuri is on him, pinning him against the floor. His hands find a tight grip around Yuya’s wrists, and Yuya shivers involuntarily when hot breath ghosts over the back of his neck.

“Found you.”

“Let me go.” It won’t be that easy, Yuya knows, but he has to try. The coldness of the stone floor seeps in through every spot of bare skin on his body, and the feeling of the rough, icy texture on his exposed wrists, ankles and neck contrast sharply with Yuri’s smooth, burning touch.

Yuri seems to disregard Yuya’s comment entirely. “What should I do with you, hm?” he croons, idly stroking the back of Yuya’s right hand with the tips of his fingers. But it isn’t idle at all, and they both know it. “Should I punish you, Yuya?”

Yuya bites his lip in an attempt to focus on the pain of that instead of the increasingly claustrophobic feeling of being trapped underneath Yuri.

“But that wouldn’t be _fair,_ ” Yuri purrs, his voice saturated with mocking. “You only ran away because you’re _scared,_ right? And it’s only the first day. I’m sure you’ll make worse transgressions.”

Yuya grits his teeth. He can’t – god, he wants to fight back, wants to protest, wants to wipe that smirk off Yuri’s face, but that would only earn him the punishment that he’s just narrowly avoided.

It isn’t fair. There is nothing fair about this at all.

Perhaps the chase, and being trapped like this, is a punishment on its own. It would be more agonising for Yuya to know that there will always be something worse in store, and he will never know when it is to be inflicted.

They are so close, so tightly is Yuya pinned, that he can faintly feel Yuri’s heartbeat through their clothes. It’s faster than a regular pace should be; racing like a hunter’s with the thrill of the kill.

“Let’s be realistic,” Yuri starts, and Yuya feels his own heart speed up to flutter like a terrified rabbit’s. “We have two ways of going about this. First, you could cooperate with me, and we can quietly walk back to your room with no problems.”

Despite his fear, Yuya bares his teeth, although Yuri probably can’t see it. “Why should I do anything you tell me?”

“Or,” Yuri continues almost cheerfully, “The second option is that you could be difficult again, and I’d have no choice but to resort to knocking you out and dragging you back to your room.”

“I’m still not seeing a reason to cooperate with you,” Yuya spits. His left cheek is pressing uncomfortably into the stone tiles, and he’s sure that his legs are already half-numb, but he refuses to just give in.

Yuri clicks his tongue in disapproval, making Yuya dearly want to punch him in the mouth. “Well, I don’t have anything on me to conveniently render you unconscious, so–” Quick as lightning, he pulls both of Yuya’s arms behind his back, crossing and holding them in place with only one of his own and leaning his full weight down to prevent struggling. Yuri’s free hand winds itself into Yuya’s hair, gripping a painful handful right by the roots. “I’d have to bash your head into the floor until you pass out.”

He pulls Yuya’s hair hard, forcing Yuya to tilt his head back at an uncomfortable angle. Yuya can’t see anything apart from the empty hall ahead, but he can sense the wicked grin curling Yuri’s lips.

“What’ll it be, Yuya?”

If Yuri is bluffing, Yuya can’t tell. And if he isn’t, and Yuya makes the wrong decision, he’ll have a lot more to worry about than his legs going numb.

There is nothing wrong with a tactical retreat, Yuya tells himself, even as the words “I’ll cooperate” burn his throat something sour when he speaks them. It feels like losing to Akaba Reiji and joining the Lancers all over again. 

“ _That’s_ more like it,” Yuri replies, letting his soft exhale brush against Yuya’s ear for the last time. He stands slowly, and Yuya’s not sure if it’s on purpose or not that Yuri seems to linger touching him for an unnecessarily long time.

Yuya also rises to his feet, watching Yuri carefully the entire time. He wouldn’t put it past Yuri to tackle him back down again, but Yuri doesn’t. He just watches Yuya watch him, in a distinctively mocking manner. Yuya tries not to grind his teeth too hard in response.

He ends up biting the inside of his cheek to keep back the embittered insults ready to fly out of his mouth when Yuri holds a hand out to him expectantly. “I’m not going to run off again,” he chooses to spit out instead.

Yuri shakes his head a little, looking most condescending. “That sounds exactly like what someone who’s going to run off again would say.”

“I’m not going to run off again!” Yuya repeats angrily. “I’m not going to hold your hand like a _child_ while you escort me back to my _cell!_ ”

“It’s not a cell.”

Of all the things to focus on – “What else would you call it, then!?”

“Just a room.” Yuri tilts his head to the side, looking at a spot just over Yuya’s shoulder. Yuya refuses to fall for it and turn around, but it’s incredibly difficult. “We have cells. They’re not nearly as nice. I can show you them, if you want.”

There’s something strange about that, but Yuya can’t quite put his finger on it. Cells, cells…

Why does Academia have cells?

They turn people into cards, and as far as Yuya knows, it’s an irreversible process. Cells would be a useless waste of space if there’s nobody to put in them.

Something stirs in Yuya’s head. It feels like something sleeping in the base of his skull, something warm and sharp. He sifts through his memories as quickly as he can. Academia is keeping something in their cells, and he knows what it is, but—

Yuzu’s face flashes through his mind. Yuzu in torn, tattered clothing, with dirt on her face and her long hair unbound, shining like a beacon in the setting sun. But he’s never seen her with that haunted look in her eyes, and there’s something wrong about the gleaming bracelet on her right wrist.

_Ruri._

It shouldn’t be a surprise. Yuto’s memories have come to him before, but always in a painful form. Yuya clings to the image as hard as he can. Serena’s words echo in his mind—

_“Why does the Professor want to capture those who look like me? Academia capturing Ruri and trying to bring me back… Those were his orders. It’s likely the same with Yuzu. I don’t know what he’s planning to do by gathering us. But we seem to be important to him. That’s why Ruri must be treated with care.”_

Serena had been absolutely sure that the Professor is aiming to capture her counterparts and keep them alive and unharmed for his plans. Capture, not turn into cards. Ruri must be here.

He’s not completely trapped and useless after all. Yuya can still do something, and he’s got the perfect window of opportunity for it.

“Show me, then.” Yuya curses the slight shake in his voice, and he hopes that his sudden optimism isn’t showing too obviously in his face.

Yuri blinks, temporarily taken off guard. He’d just been making a threat with the cells, then. But he quickly regains his previous composure, and his heavy-lidded eyes are now lit with an unsettling glitter. “Take my hand.”

Yuya does so at last. Yuri’s hand is strangely hot against his own; feverish and yet devoid of sweat. His skin is oddly smooth, but Yuya can feel developing callouses against his palm. It’s discomforting, because his are exactly the same.

He tries to keep his grip loose to avoid too much skin contact. But Yuri winds his fingers around Yuya’s, pressing matching flesh together as much as he can, and Yuya is unable to repress his shudder.

Yuri leads him leisurely, without as much as a glance over his shoulder. He seems focused on the hall ahead rather than his charge.

The back of his head is bizarre to look at. Is this what Yuya looks like from the back? The loose, wavy parts of his hair bounce with every step, and his cape sways like Yuya’s jacket must when it’s slung over his shoulders. His squared shoulders are the same as Yuya’s. Even the movement of his legs – swift, sure, his heels going _tap, tap_ against the stone tiles – is unnervingly similar.

The hallways are getting darker with every turn they make. Yuya glances over his shoulder at the fading sunlight behind them, and Yuri tugs on his arm sharply.

“Do you want to go or not?”

Yuya doesn’t look back again.

Soon enough, Yuri leads him to a dark stairwell, lit only by small torches every few metres. The stairs themselves are chipped at the edges and look like they haven’t seen so much as a mop in about ten years. They’re also steep and narrow.

And yet pristine Yuri, in all his vibrant colour, makes his way down. Yuya follows him apprehensively.

The stairs are in even worse condition than he’d seen at the start. Some of them are covered in slippery, unidentifiable muck that Yuya avoids as much as he can. Yuri doesn’t have a problem at all; he somehow evades everything unsavoury without even looking down once. Yuya wonders how many times he’s been down here.

Distracted by Yuri’s aloofness, Yuya doesn’t even notice that the stair in front of him is not actually there until he falls. He shrieks in a very manly and dignified way when he falls a little further than he meant to, and, thrown off balance, crashes into Yuri’s back.

To his credit, Yuri manages to prevent them from tumbling down the rest of the staircase by directing their fall towards the wall. The result is the pair of them colliding painfully against said filthy, holey wall. Something makes an unpleasant crunching noise; Yuya isn’t sure whose limb it is. Maybe it’s just the wall.

Yuri immediately shoves Yuya off him, and this time Yuya falls up the stairs. He narrowly misses smacking his head on the edge of a stair by using his elbows to break his fall. The rest of his body is not so lucky, and Yuya quickly deduces that it was his right ankle making the crunching noise before.

Yuya stands back up again just as Yuri whirls around, his mirror features twisted in a snarl. The second that his furious eyes lock with Yuya’s, seething hatred unfurls itself in Yuya’s chest, and he wants nothing more than to throw Yuri the rest of the way down the stairs. He wants to hear bones snap and puncture organs and wreck that frail human shell, and he’ll make Yuri _scream_ —

Yuri looks away, and the spell breaks.

Yuya exhales slowly, feeling his lungs shudder with the action. Where had _that_ come from? For a moment, his mind had felt not his own, consumed by a monster’s roaring bloodlust. There’s a sudden pang in his chest reminiscent of the feverish heat that had arisen when he’d begun a Duel with Yuto. It fades just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Yuya to stare at the back of Yuri’s head and wonder. 

He’s sort of dizzy; he doesn’t trust himself to attempt the stairs again yet. Yuya gingerly rubs at his elbows and winces in pain. His fingers come back bloody. He isn’t surprised, mostly because he’s had similar injuries before.

“Are you coming or not?”

Yuya blinks. He hasn’t really registered until now that Yuri’s gone on without him, and is halfway around a turn that’ll take him out of sight.

Yuri stops and turns around, his upper lip curled in disgust and his arms crossed over his chest. “You said earlier that you didn’t need your hand held like a child. Can’t you walk on your own after all?”

“Of course I can!” Yuya snaps, and with his reticence promptly forgotten, immediately begins to follow Yuri again. He keeps distant this time, always four steps behind, not wanting to crash into Yuri again.

They reach the base of the stairs in absolute silence. There are more torches down in the dungeon they’ve arrived in than there were on the stairs, but it’s still dim. Yuya wonders how far underground this area is. He’d been expecting something awful, but not this. This place doesn’t even qualify as a cellar – it’s too big, too dark, and too _filthy_. No, these are dungeons that Yuri has led him to.

Not really wanting to, Yuya steps forward so he can look around. The walls are made of crumbling brick and splattered with something dark and long dried, and mould and other sorts of fungus grow out from every little gap in cement. The cells have the worst concentration of filth, and the stench radiating from them makes Yuya want to gag. Things keep moving out of the corner of his eye – he can’t catch them, but he’s pretty sure they’re rats. Or something worse.

“Would you like it better here?” Yuri asks him. Entranced by his horror at his surroundings, Yuya has almost forgotten that Yuri is down here with him, and the sudden sound makes him jump.

Yuya shakes his head. There’s nobody else down here that he can see, and unless Serena had been wrong about how the Professor is treating her counterparts, Ruri most likely isn’t here.

Again for the second time in the last five minutes, Yuya makes the mistake of disregarding Yuri as a threat. Before he knows it, he’s slammed against one of the grimy walls, with the right side of his face pressed directly against something slimy and his arms twisted uncomfortably behind his back. Once more, Yuri is right up against his back, and the heat of his breath gently puffs against the cold shell of Yuya’s ear this time.

“Who are you looking for, Yuya?” Yuri whispers.

“Nobody,” Yuya lies. It’s rather difficult to speak properly in his position. “There’s nobody here, is there?”

“That’s right,” Yuri mocks him. “Academia doesn’t take prisoners, you know that as well as I. But you’re sure we’re holding someone, aren’t you? Who’s special enough to warrant imprisonment over being turned into a card?”

“I’m here!” Yuya retorts without thinking. “If you don’t take prisoners, why did you take me!?”

Yuri laughs, and he’s close enough for the sound to vibrate across Yuya’s skin. “Academia doesn’t take prisoners,” he repeats. “But I do.”

“What does that _mean!?_ ” Yuya demands.

“You weren’t orders,” Yuri murmurs. Yuya can feel him smiling. “Capturing you was a decision I made on my own.”

For some reason, that makes it all seem worse than if it had been on official orders. If it had been to investigate Pendulum summoning, then that would’ve at least been something that he’d know. Yuya doesn’t know what Yuri wants from him, but he’s entirely at Yuri’s mercy, and there’s not a single person in this dimension who can do anything about it.

“I could leave you down here, and nobody would ever know.” He’s right, of course. “I could leave you down here for the rats to eat, and nobody would ever know.”

Just as he says it, another rat moves out of the corner of Yuya’s eye, and he sees it clearly this time. “ _Don’t_ ,” he gasps.

“I wouldn’t even have to lock you in a cell,” Yuri continues. “I could break your legs and leave you here. Where would the rats go for first, I wonder? I think—” He cranes around, plastering their bodies together until their gazes lock. “—they’d take your eyes first. Then the tips of your fingers, and the shells of your ears, wearing you down to bone and cartilage. And then we wouldn’t look the same anymore, would we? You’d—”

It clicks. Yuya forces himself to speak despite the inevitable tremor in his voice. “That’s what gets you – you hate that we look alike, don’t you?”

“Shut up,” Yuri snarls at him, but he’s too late. Yuya already knows.

“You think you’re better than everybody else,” he spits. “You can’t stand me having what you think’s yours. You think nobody else could possibly be good enough to—”

“That’s not true,” Yuri interrupts him. A slow grin begins to creep its way across his face, stretching his mouth impossibly wide, and he looks – he looks _impressed_. “The thought of some mediocre Duellist wearing my face, pretending to be a worthy opponent when he’s not – I can’t stand _that_. But you’re not like that, are you? Somewhere you don’t want to acknowledge, you’re just like me.”

“I’m nothing like you!”

Yuri has the audacity to _giggle_ and pinch Yuya’s cheek. It stings. “You _are_ ,” he sings. “You’re not quite there yet, but you’re closer than you think. I can’t wait to see you how you’re meant to be, Yuya. You’ll be _beautiful_.”

Yuya squeezes his eyes shut and does his best to repress the gnawing uncertainty in his gut. “I’m not listening to you. You don’t know anything.”

“I know you’re a bad liar,” Yuri chirps. “It’s obvious who you’re looking for.” He finally releases Yuya and steps back, headed for the stairs. “I’m going back, you can stay down here if you’d like.”

Yuya glares at his back, but follows anyway. This time, he’s much more careful of the stairs. He watches exactly where Yuri steps and then copies him. It makes the stairs stupidly easy to climb. Yuya’s very aware of the fact that if Yuri makes a wrong step (which he won’t), they’ll both go tumbling down, and they’ll break too many bones in the fall to be able to climb back up and they’ll be eaten by the rats. Except that Yuya wouldn’t be eaten by the rats, because Yuri would eat him first.

He can imagine it so vividly – Yuri with that raving rage and madness in his eyes, cooing lying apologies as he pins Yuya down against the floor. He’d go for the better meat first, ripping at Yuya’s clothes to get at him, and then he’d sink his teeth right into Yuya’s shoulder – _“It’s not like you need that arm, anyway, it’s not your drawing arm.”_ He’d snap tendons and gnaw around bone, Yuya’s blood dripping from his lips as he lies – _“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but you taste so delicious—”_

Yuri would refuse to take certain parts, of course. Even starving and half-mad, he’d be picky. _“I’m not touching your hands; the rats have been nibbling at those.” “Stop struggling, your hair’s getting in my mouth.” “Don’t you dare die on me, I don’t want you cold.”_

Driven out of his mind with pain and hunger, Yuya would eventually fight back. He’d refuse to lie down and let Yuri eat him alive, not when there was a chance that someone would come looking for Yuri at some point. So he’d have to survive, bite and swallow the fingers holding him down, tear into warm flesh, and he’d relish Yuri’s screams.

They’d eat each other alive. It wouldn’t end until one of them takes something irreparable, until Yuya tears Yuri’s throat out, until Yuri pulls Yuya’s still-beating heart from his chest and swallows it whole.

Yuya’s foot slips on the stairs. This time he screams, images of rats and death whipping through his mind, and he braces himself for his bones to break on impact—

Yuri catches him. His grip around Yuya’s wrist is tight, and Yuya unsurely uses it to stabilise himself on the stair below. He waits for Yuri to let go, and Yuri holds on to him a little longer than necessary before doing so.

“Stop falling,” Yuri snaps at him.

Yuya bristles. “I’m not doing it on purpose!”

“So you’re just incompetent, then.”

“It’s the stairs!” Yuya feels like a petulant child trying to explain himself to a brick wall.

“I haven’t fallen.”

“You live here!”

“I don’t live in the dungeons.”

Yuya grinds his teeth and wonders if some form of benevolent god will make Yuri trip at some point. Except then he’ll fall on Yuya and they’ll both break their legs and get eaten by rats, and he’s already been over why that would be awful.

No such god exists. They reach the top of the stairs without further incident. Yuya squints in the natural sunlight; it’s too bright after being exposed to naught but dim torches underground. The outside air is warm and the breeze is gentle as it skates across his skin.

But back into darkness Yuya must return. The rest of the fortress doesn’t seem as oppressive after being in the dungeons. Perhaps that was Yuri’s intent in taking Yuya down there. Yuya shoots a wistful glance towards the sunbeams streaming through the high windows, and follows Yuri once more.

It’s quiet. Too quiet. Their synchronised footsteps reverberate twice as loudly because of it. Yuya’s fine enough to leave things as is, but Yuri doesn’t intend to let the silence remain unbroken.

“I hope we won’t be too late,” Yuri says, in a horrible imitation of small talk. “Guards are assigned to bring you food at certain times, so if we’re not there, they might have left already.”

Just to humiliate him further, Yuya’s stomach grumbles quietly, and he feels an angry flush burn his face and neck when Yuri laughs. Yuri’s laughter sounds like a distorted recording of Yuya’s fake, forced laughter when he’s forcing himself not to break down.

It raises the hair on the back of Yuya’s neck.

Yuri navigates the veritable maze of hallways with disgusting ease. Just as he’d made his way down to the dungeons, he makes his way back, never once faltering or questioning his sense of direction. There’s nothing resembling any sort of landmark to track their position, and to Yuya, every hall looks the same.

The familiar door comes back into view.

Yuya’s breath hitches.

_Obelisk Force_. They’re right outside his door, just standing around doing nothing. In the silent hall devoid of any other presences, Yuri and Yuya draw their attention in an instant. The red lenses of their masks obscure their eyes completely, but Yuya can still feel their piercing gazes directed at him.

He squares his shoulders and tilts his chin up stubbornly. He won’t be intimidated.

“Easy,” Yuri murmurs with a touch of amusement. “They’re your bodyguards.”

Incensed at the idea, Yuya glares at him with as much rage as he can muster. “I _don’t want them._ ”

Yuri shrugs at him. “I can’t babysit you all the time. I do actually have other things to do.”

Yuya opens his mouth to complain, and then shuts it. Who would he rather be stuck with? His creepy, possibly-murderous clone from another dimension, or a squad of three faceless, confirmed-murderous guards from another dimension?

In an ideal world, neither, but it’s not like he has a choice, anyway. “Are they just gonna stand outside?”

“Unless you want them in your room, yes.”

“Why would I—” Oh, Yuri’s smirking at him again. “You’re not funny,” Yuya snaps instead.

Since he’s been busy being mad at Yuri for inflicting the Obelisk Task Force on him, Yuya hasn’t noticed that they’ve walked right up to the door. Since he’s also been busy attempting to have an argument with Yuri about inflicting the Obelisk Task Force on him, Yuya hasn’t noticed that one of them is holding a tray. It’s brought to his attention when it’s shoved in his face.

“Here,” is said gruffly, and Yuya has no option but to take it unless he wants it dropped on his feet.

“Wha…?” Well, Yuri had said that the guards are meant to bring him food, but that fact had taken a backseat after seeing Obelisk Task Force at his door. Yuya’s very empty stomach grumbles again, and the guard in front of him snickers.

It’s not really that much, but it’s still better than he’d been expecting. Yuya had sort of expected gruel or something else suitable for prisoners, but he’s got two slices of buttered toast and an apple on the side. When he picks up a slice out of curiosity, he finds that the toast has gone cold.

He turns to look at Yuri, who is… not there.

“Oh, Yuya?” Yuya turns around to see Yuri already halfway down the hall, standing in a small patch of sun. Beside him, the Obelisk Force squad tenses.

Yuri smiles, looking perfectly serene. “You won’t find her.”

And then he’s gone.

The other two guards have already begun marching down the hall, the same way Yuri went, but one remains. He’s the same one who had held the tray; Yuya can only tell because he hasn’t moved from where he was. He punches in the code to unlock the door too fast for Yuya to read and the door slides open with a quiet hiss.

“In.”

Yuya goes inside in a way that is definitely not sulky. The room is just as white and pristine as it was when he left. He stands just in the doorway, not wanting to return to his prison just yet.

“ _In,_ ” repeats the member of the Obelisk Force behind him, using the same kind of tone that one would with a small, stupid dog.

Yuya glares at him. He’s not sure if he gets a glare back; all he can see is the irritated tightening at the corners of the mouth.

“You’re all the same,” he blurts.

He receives a scowl.

“It’s just—” Yuya fumbles, searching for the words. “I can’t tell any of you apart. You all use the same Decks. Doesn’t that bother you?”

There is a short, contemplative silence, and then—

A smirk. “That’s funny coming from you, twin of Yuri.”

The door slams shut.

Yuya is alone.

On the other side of the room, the bathroom door hangs half-open, and his pale, troubled reflection stares at him with large, moonlike eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter: general creepy gore warning, isolation, starvation, eye-related gore. also yuri gets in a fight with a piece of cardboard

With nothing else to do, Yuya is forced to eat his cold food (Breakfast? Lunch? There’s no clock in his room, he has no idea what time it is) and sleep. There’s no point in exploring the sparse few square metres he’s been given again, and all the cabinets are empty, so there’s nothing to amuse himself with.

When he wakes, he still has no idea what time it is. He’s also really bored.

Does Yuri intend for Yuya to sleep all day? More likely he just doesn’t care. Jerk.

Yuya rolls onto his back and stares listlessly at the ceiling. Try as he might, without anything else to distract himself with, his thoughts continually wander back to the one topic he’d much rather ignore. He’s been trying to forget about it, but it haunts him all the same.

His violent thoughts from the previous day. They’d dispelled quickly enough when he’d had them, but they’d consumed him too thoroughly. For longer than a moment, he’d seriously been intending on throwing Yuri down the stairs, and if Yuri hadn’t broken their mutual stare, Yuya would have done it.

The thoughts about the rats, though. Eating each other. Yuya tries to distance himself from the topic as he thinks about it, but it’s too raw and painful. He still shudders with horror when he thinks about it. He’s never thought anything like that before, and never before has he become so entranced in something like that. What alarms him the most is that the thoughts don’t feel foreign. They feel like his.

Are these thoughts the symptoms of an oncoming possession again? Yuya doesn’t remember any of those times at all; everything just goes black. One second Kachidoki was taunting him, the next, he’d won and Kachidoki looked up at him with fear. One second he was watching the Obelisk Force seal the Knights of Duels into cards, the next, he was in another area entirely, laying on the ground surrounded by his worried friends. Yuya doesn’t remember feeling anything but stirring rage before the possessions, but it’s all too hazy to rule anything out.

The fits of possession seem to have dwindled after Duelling his mother, but Yuya is in Academia now. Being forced to stay in the heart of the enemy base must agitate Yuto’s soul. Maybe. Yuya still doesn’t even know what the possessions _are_ ; he doesn’t think they’re all Yuto. Yuto had been honest in his wish for Yuya to create smiles with his Duelling, and even before that, he’d never been overly violent, even against an obvious enemy.

Yuya has to get out of here soon. If not for his own sake, then for Yuto’s.

And for Yuzu’s. He’s even further away from her than he was before, and it’ll be doubly hard to reach the Synchro dimension from the Fusion dimension. If Yuya forgets his purpose and becomes immersed in the horrors his mind generates, he’ll never be able to save her.

But it’s hard when they claw at him so insistently. They want his attention. They want him to look at them and never look away.

His thoughts aren’t alive, Yuya tells himself. They’re his thoughts. He can control them. They don’t control him.

Frustrated, he stands and begins to pace. Maybe moving around will help to distract him.

It doesn’t, of course. He feels like he’s being watched. Yuya can’t help but glance over his shoulder every few seconds, worrying that somebody or some _thing_ is behind him. There’s never anything there, but he’s certain he’s being watched. Just because he hasn’t found any security cameras yet doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

Yuya sort of wants to crawl back into bed and hide from whatever’s looking at him. He doesn’t like it. The room is too quiet, and the only movement is himself, and there are eyes on him wherever he goes.

Shouldn’t somebody have come by yet? Yuya’s been awake for a while, and Yuri had said that meals would be brought to his room. There is no clock in sight, so Yuya will just have to track time by meals. They should be standardised; three a day, maybe? That seems reasonable enough, especially for a highly organised place like Academia.

His stomach gurgles unhappily at him. It’s not as bad as it had been when he’d Duelled Michio, but it’s still irritating.

Thinking about that Duel brings two things to the forefront of his mind – his mother’s pancakes, and Michio being turned into a card. The first sends deep pangs directly to Yuya’s stomach, and the second sends deep pangs directly to his chest.

_Obelisk Force_. What are they worth in Academia, anyway? All the different uniforms seem to indicate ranks, which would make sense, but this realisation is completely useless because Yuya doesn’t know what they mean. He’s sort of hoping that Obelisk Task Force is the best they have, because if they’re just the grunts of the organisation, then how dangerous are the levels above?

Yuya has only ever seen Serena in Yuzu’s clothes or the new ones Reiji had provided for her, but she must have had a uniform at some point. She must know how their hierarchy works, how the inner mechanics of how they function, and the entire system of the place. She’s a goldmine of information, but nobody has asked.

Maybe Reiji has, but he wouldn’t share. He’d just shut himself up in the LDS tower and make decisions for everyone else based on the information. If questioned, he’d shrug it off. If anyone objected to what he’d decided… Well, it wouldn’t matter. He could thrash anyone in a Duel easily.

Finding himself unconsciously clenching his fists, Yuya forces himself to relax. As much as he can, anyway. In his anger, he’d temporarily lost the sensation of eyes on the back of his head, and although he’d sure like them to go away, he doesn’t want to lose focus on his surroundings. Yuya is still in Academia. He knows damn well that lock on his door is to keep him in, not keep anybody else out. The Obelisk Force squad from the other day had known the code; in here, Yuya’s just a sitting duck.

Duck. Roast duck. Chicken. Food. His stomach makes a weird noise. Yuya considers telling it to be quiet, but he’d just be talking to himself, and he’s not that desperate yet.

It’d be easy enough to lose his mind in here. He’s sitting in a silent white cell with nothing to do but listen to himself think. He’s already started thinking about things he’d rather not think about, and there’s nothing that can take his mind off them for long.

His stomach makes a drawn-out grumble, like it’s whining.

“Shut up,” Yuya says.

He promptly realises that is throat is rather dry, and speaking scrapes it unpleasantly. Unlike with food, though, Yuya does have a water source – the bathroom sink. He wrinkles his nose at the thought, but goes and finds it anyway.

Feeling kind of stupid, he turns on the tap. Yuya has to tilt his head to the side at a weird angle to reach the stream, and ends up with one of his ears shoved uncomfortably against the side of the sink. Also, his hair is getting wet.

It could be worse, though. He could be drinking out of the toilet.

Yuya manages to get water all over his face and down his shirt, and when he catches sight of the mess he’s made of himself in the mirror, his cheeks burn red. Whatever. Now that he’s suitably made an idiot of himself, Yuri will walk in at any second. Yuya can almost hear him now – “ _Drinking out of the sink, Yuya? All you had to do was wait a little longer for breakfast, but I don’t know why I expected better from you. Maybe you aren’t as interesting as I thought you were._ ”

Great, he’s so bored and lonely that he’s imagining _Yuri_ talking to him. Yuya wishes that his brain would provide nice imaginary conversations instead of nasty ones. A pep talk from Yuzu or his father would be nice.

He’s still hungry. Having something in his stomach soothes it a little, even if it’s just water. Yuya lies back on the tiles and sighs.

How long has it been? Definitely a few hours, and there’s still no sign that anybody’s coming. Yuya drags himself to his feet and back to bed. Maybe sleeping some more might help him to ignore the gnawing pain in his abdomen.

*

Yuya really doesn’t know what he was expecting to wake up to. It’s woefully underwhelming; he wakes, reluctantly sits up, and finds that nothing has changed. The room looks exactly the same, with no sign that somebody has come in during his rest.

He’d been sort of hoping to wake up to find a tray of food on the table, or even to be shaken awake by an irate Obelisk Force with his breakfast in tow, but neither has occurred. He’s alone, hungry, bored, and those _eyes_ are still on him.

He hasn’t eaten in… God, how long has it been? There’s no sense of time where he is, and all Yuya has to go by is what he thinks. He hasn’t eaten since the night before, but he doesn’t know how long ago that was. He has no way to log the passage of time, and for all he knows, it could have been only six hours since he woke up the first time.

Being alone with nothing to do makes it worse. He has nothing to concentrate on but the emptiness of his stomach. Frustrated, Yuya rolls over and half off the bed to open the single drawer of the small table beside him, and blinks.

His Deck is in there. The cards must have been neatly stacked before; yanking the drawer open had caused some to fall.

How weird. He has his Deck, but not his Duel Disk. What’s the point of leaving Yuya his cards if he can’t do anything with them?

Regardless, his cards are a bright splash of colour in the otherwise monotonous room, and Yuya sorts through them gladly. Since he’s not at home and doesn’t have the rest of the cards he owns, he can’t build on his Deck, only look through.

Yuya slides out of bed and onto the floor, where he lies in an uncomfortable position that he can’t be bothered moving out of. He ends up spreading his cards all over the floor – colouring over the plain white tiles, bringing a little life to the dead space around him. His Main Deck monsters reach all over the place in a haphazard spiral, and his Extra Deck monsters are kept close. It’s kind of silly to hope for, but maybe the eyes will look at Discover Hippo instead of Yuya.

They don’t. They’re still on him, watching his vulnerable back; Yuya backs up until he’s leaning against the bedframe. Unnerved once more, he begins to collect all his cards back, suddenly not wanting those scrutinizing eyes on them.

Rune-Eyes Pendulum Dragon and Beast-Eyes Pendulum Dragon he pulls close to his chest, hiding them, hiding his only reminders of Yuzu from the eyes. He looks at them like they have an answer to help him; as if Yuzu could somehow reach through the cards.

Yuya doesn’t know if he’s imagining it or not that the gaze on him intensifies to try to look through his arms at the dragons. He curls defensively around them anyway.

He really is going crazy, isn’t he? Even if there are eyes on him, those eyes wouldn’t know what those cards mean to Yuya. Academia will never have that. They can lock Yuya in his room and starve him or toss him to the rats in the dungeon, but they can’t take Yuzu from him. She’s in another dimension far away from here, and as long as Yuya knows that, he can survive long enough to save her.

He smiles. Only a little, but it’s the first genuine smile that’s crossed his face since his kidnapping. That’s just Yuzu’s power, Yuya supposes; she gives him hope even in the direst of situations.

His stomach grumbles again, emitting waves of pain to everywhere else in his body, and Yuya tries not to cry. Lethargy takes over him, and it’s a ridiculous effort to climb back into bed. Into bed, out of bed, into bed, out of bed, that’s all he does. Yuya puts his cards into the drawer as gently as he can, and then closes it firmly.

Nobody is coming, after all. _Pet project_ , Yuri had called Yuya. An experiment. That’s what the eyes are for – they’re recording everything Yuya does so it can be analysed later under hundreds more eyes, and whatever they do with the information they gain won’t be good.

The eyes stop looking at him.

Somehow, their absence raises the hair on the back of his neck like how their presence hadn’t achieved. Yuya is really alone now, without even that alien gaze as a twisted form of company. He’s relieved, and also not. Something has to happen soon. Yuya reopens the drawer and stuffs his cards in the pockets of his pants, just in case.

The main door hisses open, and Yuya forces himself to crawl out of bed and put his shoes and jacket on. This is it, then. He’s weak and tired from not eating and not doing anything at all, really, but this might be the only chance he has to escape. If that door closes in his face again, he doesn’t know how long it’ll be until it opens again.

Yuri stands just on the stone tile outside. His face is still a perfect mirror of Yuya’s, and it’s still disturbing. He looks exactly the same as he had when Yuya had last seen him, right down to how his starched collar sits around his neck.

Even though he’s blocking it, it’s still an open door. It’ll be difficult to get him out of the way again, but Yuya doesn’t really have anything to lose.

“Hello, Yuya.”

Yuya says nothing. Instead, he walks forward with his shoulders stiff and his back rigid. Shoving won’t work a second time; he’s far too weak for that now. If he can just barrel through—

Just as Yuya steels himself to charge forwards, Yuri moves out of the way.

Yuya blinks.

“I don’t doubt that you’ll try to escape multiple times,” Yuri says boredly, absently inspecting his nails as he speaks. “I would. Go on, Yuya, try.”

It’s a trap. It’s the most obvious trap that Yuya has ever seen. He wanders out of the doorway cautiously, expecting to be jumped by Obelisk Force at any second. Three steps out, and nothing happens. It is actually kind of awkward.

Can he really just… walk off? It seems too simple. Too easy. Yuya stands right where he is, waiting and waiting for anything to happen. He can feel himself swaying a little; he’s also a bit woozy. Whatever. He’ll be fine as long as he can get away.

And so he walks. The hallways are as empty as before, and Yuya’s footsteps ring too loudly through them, just like the last time. He has shoes this time, though, and the cold seeps into him a little less. His cards sit heavy, reassuring, in his pockets.

Yuya comes to a hall with large windows, and the light streaming in is almost blinding. He hasn’t seen natural light in – two days? Three days? It feels like an eternity, but he’s here now, and the light dances across his skin like joy.

It’s not as bright as it could be. The windows are just empty holes in the rock, no glass at all, allowing Yuya to lean against the sill and look out. The light is warm but dull because of the thick, misty clouds covering the sky. Brilliant sunlight beams through tiny holes in the grey blanket, but it’s nothing compared to a clear day. This kind of weather suits Academia, Yuya supposes. Dark and dreary skies for a dimension of invaders.

He can’t see anything interesting from his vantage point. There are gardens, which seem rather out of place, and a lot of walkways. They do tell Yuya something, though – that’s the way out.

Yuya wanders down brighter halls until he meets green. The hedges are neat, sharply trimmed, without a flower in sight. (Maybe he can eat a leaf.) On closer inspection, he realises that they’re fake. Even the grass bordering the pathways is fake. Everything surrounding Yuya is cold plastic and metal, and the only living thing for ages around is himself.

Out of something like habit, he checks around himself for Yuri. Yuri’s not stupid enough to actually let Yuya wander off on his own, so he must be following somewhere nearby. Yet there’s not a flash of magenta anywhere – not in the gardens, not up ahead, not through the stone-rimmed windows above.

He’s not in sight, but Yuya knows how to listen for him now. Yuya continues walking, waiting to hear the steps synchronised with his own, and gets nothing. As far as he can tell, Yuri really isn’t there.

Yuri must trust whatever lies ahead to prevent Yuya from escaping. There are probably massive stone gates, or electrified barbed wire, or a hundred guards at the border of the grounds. But Yuya won’t let any of those things stop him. He’s going to get out and find Yuzu.

_Yuzu_. Yuya turns around and stares up at the enormous fortress behind him, and wonders where Ruri is being kept.

He passes out of the gardens and down many stairs into a cold metal section. Strange machinery clicks and turns, rumbling and processing, looming over his head. Some machines have large yellow warning signs on them – ‘some’ meaning ‘most’ – and so Yuya walks right down the middle of them all. He doesn’t know if they’re just machines for things like the water system and air conditioning, or if they’re part of the interdimensional transporters.

It doesn’t matter. It’s not like Yuya could disable any of them, which is a shame, because having Academia run around like a flock of headless chickens without whatever important thing he’d wrecked would be great. It’d give him more time to escape.

Something smells funny. It’s sort of salty, and it’s coming from up ahead. It’s also very familiar, but Yuya can’t put his finger on it.

Until he steps out onto white cement, and his heart drops into his stomach.

Dark blue waves crash and spray foam against the docks. The churning ocean spans for miles and miles in every direction, almost blending into the murky horizon. It laps at the docks hungrily, and its residue causes the cement to reek of sea salt.

More effective than any guard, gate, or fence. There isn’t a single boat in sight. There’s nothing but the open sea with cold laughter in its waves.

Yuya wants to cry.

Sharp clapping reaches his ears. Yuya can’t be bothered to turn around and glare at the source. “I see you’ve found the end, Yuya.”

“Does this go all the way around?” Yuya asks dully.

“Mhm,” Yuri answers. “If you don’t believe me, you can check for yourself.”

Yuya doesn’t have the strength for that. He’s tired, he’s starving, and all his bravado has melted away into the ocean ahead. He turns around and wearily meets Yuri’s gleaming eyes. “Look, can I eat now?”

Yuri cocks his head to the side. “Didn’t you just have breakfast an hour ago?”

Yuya gnashes his teeth. He’s not in the mood for Yuri’s games. Well, he never is, but even less so with the constant pain in his stomach. “I haven’t eaten since you locked me back in that room.”

“It’s been two days since I last saw you,” Yuri says, looking for all the world like he has no idea what’s going on. “Are you really saying that nobody brought you food in that time at all?”

“Two _days!?_ ” Yuya splutters. “You left me in there for _two days!?_ ” That explains quite a lot. Two whole days he’d been stuck in there. Two whole days alone, without food, without human contact.

“I thought you’d want time to cool off after our last meeting.”

“Why would you— _Ugh!_ ” Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “Just – Nobody’s brought me anything, okay!? Will you let me eat or not!?”

“Of course.” Yuri makes it sound like a dumb question. He’s laughing on the inside; Yuya can see it in his eyes. “I’ll take you up to the dining hall with me as an apology.”

“Huh?”

“Where all the students eat. Normally you wouldn’t be allowed there, but since you’ve suffered so much in the last few days, I’ll take you.”

The condescension in Yuri’s voice makes Yuya want to punch him. He also isn’t sure if he wants to go to the dining hall if it has _other students_ in it. On one hand, an entire room full of dangerous Academia soldiers. On the other hand, food.

His stomach makes an irritatingly familiar grumbling noise; it's been aching for so long that it only hurts half as much as it used to. Yuya has no choice but to obey its wishes. “Fine.”

Yuri holds out a hand to him, but drops it with a laugh when Yuya glares at him. He turns and begins walking back to the fortress, and Yuya reluctantly follows.

The journey back inside is surprisingly quick, but Yuya doesn’t pay much attention to the scenery this time. Instead, he just watches the back of Yuri’s head, and wonders what the hell Yuri wants from him.

Unbeknownst to Yuya, Yuri feels his intense stare. For Yuri's, it's the opposite of unnerving – he likes having those blazing eyes fixed on him, likes feeling the righteous fury of his counterpart directed at him.

Whisking away Yuya has most definitely been a good idea. It is pure curiosity that has brought their paths together at last; almost innocent compared to how Yuri has met his other counterparts. This time, it isn’t coincidence, but his own choice.

Yuri hadn’t had the faintest idea what he was going to do when he met Yuya, and only a sudden spike of inspiration had led to the kidnapping.

There is something in the firm, defiant way that Yuya meets his eyes that Yuri likes.

He wants more.

He hasn’t gotten a chance to truly toy with his other counterparts – only turned those ticking time bombs in each other’s direction and watched them explode – and now Yuri has all the time in the world to play with Yuya.

The others were dangerous, active threats, and had to have been eliminated as soon as possible. Yuya is none of those things. Yuri has cut the problem at the root before it grew too wily, and now he has a neat little specimen in a glass container to stare at and prod with a stick.

He wonders how much goading it will take for Yuya to snap. He wonders how much tormenting it will take for Yuya to break.

Both have the same answer – enough to make it fun.

Yuri is slightly surprised by how easy it has been to convince Yuya that he knows nothing about what happened in the last two days. Yuya has accepted his words at face value, which is rather odd considering how he distrusts everything else Yuri says. Perhaps Yuri has been right enough times that Yuya is beginning to believe that he doesn’t lie.

_“It’s been two days since I last saw you.”_ A bald-faced lie. It’s been two days since Yuri has seen Yuya face-to-face, but not two days since he’s seen him. There are security cameras hidden all around Yuya’s room, and Yuri has been watching Yuya through them the whole time. He’d be stupid not to. The last two days have been an important experiment and yielded pleasing results. Yuya hasn’t gone mad, and he’s only physically weakened. What’s more important are the effects that will come afterwards.

Yuri intends to isolate Yuya, pin him down like a butterfly on a corkboard, and destroy him as slowly as possible. He’s always taken his time with these sorts of things, and Yuya will be no exception to the rule. In fact, Yuri will take it even slower with him. He has all the time in the world for it. The Professor isn’t interested in having Yuya like Ruri and Rin and Yuzu, so there is no deadline of handing him over.

Ruri, Rin, and Yuzu had all broken down to tears in the end. Yuri had left Yuya locked in that room to die (as far as Yuya knows) for two days, and he hadn’t cried. It’s a good precursor; if Yuya can endure that, he can take plenty more of Yuri’s games. And he wears Yuri’s face, not a silver bracelet. Something special made for Yuri. The Professor can have those girls and their twinkling bracelets, and he can have every soul that Yuri seals in a card, but Yuya is _Yuri’s_.

Yuya doesn’t notice it, but Yuri does, when they pass into the next wing of the fortress. The second they cross the invisible border, the difference is almost tangible. The light is brighter, and there is noise other than their own footsteps – other students chattering.

Yuri tries not to look too disgusted at some of the conversations he hears. Osiris Reds; slackers and idiots, all of them. Everybody brags about whatever they can, whinges excessively, and wastes their time being self-absorbed instead of bettering themselves to get promoted. There’s a reason they’re always put on the front lines, and it’s not because of their skill.

It doesn’t take too long for the meaningly chatter to turn to confused, hushed whispering. Yuri already stands out, dressed like the adults, and Yuya is wearing a different set of clothes entirely. His jacket is a uniform jacket, but it’s certainly not the right one. Too white. Too casual.

And despite all their differences, they have the exact same face. Yuri pushes his hair back from his and wears it proudly; Yuya hides his eyes behind his bangs to try to lessen the resemblance.

The dining hall is even more noisy and crowded than the hallways. But the other students skitter out of the way easily enough, giving a wide berth around the pair. Yuri wonders just how Yuya feels about that; if he’s relieved or insulted.

Yuri doesn’t bother to eat in the main dining hall often, mostly because everyone else there is extremely irritating. Really, a student body of bloodthirsty child soldiers should be a little less gross, not spitting crumbs all over each other and pointing and staring obnoxiously.

Yuri is the one to get food; Yuya trails behind him and glares the whole time. He leads Yuya over to a table that’s mostly out of the way, but has a good view of the rest of the room. Yuri takes the seat with its back against the wall, forcing Yuya to sit across from him with his back exposed to everyone else’s eyes.

Yuya evidently doesn’t appreciate it. He keeps craning around to stare at the hall behind him, glaring fiercely at everyone who dares to meet his eyes. Yuri tries not to let his amusement show on his face. Yuya looks like an angry, frightened cat that’s been backed into a corner by a hoard of animals stronger than he is.

But in his preoccupation with the pack of coyotes salivating behind him, he’s disregarded the dragon right in front of him. Yuri plays with his food, and grins on the inside.

“Yuya, your lunch is going to go cold if you don’t eat it soon.”

Yuya turns his glare on Yuri, but grabs the nearest food item on his plate and tears into it like it’s Yuri’s throat. He swallows loudly and turns back around to continue staring down the other students.

And then Yuya promptly drops the half of his poor sandwich that he’s still holding. “Sora…” he breathes, and stands up, intending to race over to the other side of the room.

“Sit down,” Yuri says sharply.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Yuya snaps. “He’s my _friend_ , I have to—”

“Academia isn’t your average school environment,” Yuri tells him, feeling his lip curl ever so slightly. “It’s militaristic training grounds. Internal politics follow wherever you go; everybody’s always looking to promote themselves to a higher rank by any means possible. If this Sora is really your friend, you won’t expose him to the vultures by bringing up personal business in a public place.”

That is all he has to do. Yuya’s absurd sense of empathy seems to be his greatest weak point, and with a furious glare in Yuri’s direction, he sinks back into his seat. This doesn’t prevent him from staring moodily over in Sora’s direction.

Yuri really could not care less for what the other students will to do Sora if they find an emotional weakness, but he does care about himself. Bringing Yuya out with him is a double-edged sword. It will protect Yuya from harassment or attacks by other students while he is still so vulnerable – although his resemblance to Yuri will already be enough for most to give him a wide berth – but if someone realises that Yuri has taken Yuya under his wing for personal reasons, they’ll be on him in an instant. His position is highly coveted, but Yuri has previously been invincible, and there have been none stupid enough to risk enraging him. Nonetheless, if someone is reckless and ambitious and clever enough, then they’ll attempt to wield Yuya against Yuri.

Not that it will necessarily work. Having Yuya alone and friendless in this environment is a twisted way of protecting him, but if he is wary of all whom approach him, he won’t be stupid enough to be drawn into their games. Yuri hadn’t expected Yuya to be familiar with any other Academia students; apart from Dennis, whose true allegiance he isn’t aware of, and the escaped Serena, who had been standing with the others in that room in the LDS tower.

Yuri pretends to be looking at Yuya, but his eyes are focused on a spot over Yuya’s shoulder. He doesn’t even need to guess who ‘Sora’ is – there’s a blue haired boy staring at Yuya’s back. Every other stare is curious, but his looks as if he’s seeing a ghost.

How irritating. But Yuri’s sure he can work with it; he can dangle Sora in front of Yuya like a carrot on a stick, giving him a temporary reason to stay in Academia. And Yuri will use his bait to lure Yuya further in, directing him away from escape, entwining his counterpart in the world of Fusion.

He will peel everything that makes Yuya back, slowly, delicately, and take all those pieces for himself. Yuri will consume Yuya entirely.

It will take time, but that will only make the final result sweeter. The fact that Yuya has followed him here and now sits quietly in the seat across is proof that the gears are already clicking into motion. Yuri will wind his roots through Yuya, threading them through his bones and burrowing into his brain, until he is so inextricably entwined that Yuya will forget what it is like to live apart.

Yuya is too bright. Yuri both dislikes and admires the fire in his eyes; watching Yuya through the security cameras these last two days has been a wholly fascinating experience. He’d had the clocks removed from Yuya’s room on purpose, of course, just so Yuya had no estimate of time beyond what he felt. It should’ve driven him mad, not knowing how long he’d been there, if anybody was coming for him, but he’d displayed a most admirable resolve.

No matter his final intentions, Yuri has no desire to break that determination just yet. It will be a most difficult task to toe the line between breaking Yuya and leaving him unscarred, but Yuri will manage it. He likes difficult, and Yuya is guaranteed to provide it in spades.

He doesn’t understand Yuya’s desire to save that girl, or what makes him continue his useless escape attempts even after realising the futility of them. However, a lack of understanding doesn’t mean fear. Only stupid people fear what they don’t understand. Yuri craves to take that determination, and he craves to take that small, hopeful smile that had quirked Yuya’s lips when he’d thought about Hiiragi Yuzu.

That time, through grainy, cold security cameras, is the only time that Yuri has seen Yuya truly smile. Yuya must smile often; he radiates that feeling, and it makes Yuri want to vomit. He will force himself to endure that smile over and over, until it reaches its peak and Yuya directs his blazing sunlight at Yuri, and then Yuri will reach into him and kill it like a weed.

Yuya would never make himself vulnerable here of his own free will, not at this stage. But Yuri will leech his colour away, and he will drain Yuya of everything that makes him want to return to the outside world. He will chip off everything unnecessary, everything unworthy, and remake.

He will not instil loyalty to Academia. That would be about as useful as Yuya keeping his loyalties to Standard. No, Yuya has to rely on Yuri alone for things to work.

Isolating him is key to that. The lonely, barren cell of a room is just the first step. Yuya will distrust his guards, and the other students, and his only proper human interactions will inevitably be with Yuri. Even though Yuya hates him as of present, he’ll subconsciously start building trust if Yuri proved himself honest and reliable.

Yuri will lure Yuya closer, ensnare him with his own blind loyalty, and then he will rot Yuya from the inside out.

After all, Yuri has always been good at ruining things.

*

Yuri has to practically drag Yuya back to his room, and he has to lie a lot in the process – _“He didn’t even notice you.” “I’m sure you can visit Sora at some point.” “He’ll be here later.”_

Several hours later, Yuya has been left in his room to stew, and Yuri has been doing a whole lot of nothing. It’s already gotten dark, but it’s not like there’s anything to do in the day, either.

It's too early to go to visit Yuya yet, but Yuri is _bored_ , and so he makes his way over anyway. The hallways around Yuya’s room are always empty – Serena has previously resided in that wing, and the Professor hasn’t wanted the other students of Academia to bother her too much. This might’ve been altruistic if not for the fact that Yuri knows that the Professor didn’t want Serena to start resenting her comrades; from constantly hearing their boasting of how many people they’d turned into cards, or about their dangerous stunts on the battlefield. The Xyz dimension isn’t even a battlefield anymore, it’s a hunting ground.

So much good keeping her isolated has done. She had become antsy, to say the least, and resorted to extreme measures to get what she wanted.

Yuri will not make the Professor’s mistakes. He will keep Yuya on a leash and loosen the bars of his cage until they are no longer necessary.

He reaches Yuya’s room and meticulously taps in the unlocking code on the keypad – a random 12-character sequence that will be changed every week – and the door automatically slides open.

Strangely enough, Yuya is still asleep; he must’ve run out of things to do again, just like Yuri. He doesn’t stir at the click of Yuri’s heels against the floor, and he still doesn’t wake even when Yuri walks over to stand right at his bedside. Yuri would have woken at the quiet ding of the opening door.

His stare that disturbs Yuya so when awake doesn’t bother him while asleep. Yuri reaches out towards him, letting his hand hover just above Yuya’s face. Touching Yuya always makes his skin crawl with fascinated revulsion, and when Yuri lowers his fingertips to Yuya’s cheek, this time is no different.

Yuya is softer than Yuri. The feel of his skin is the same, but there is a softness in his expression that Yuri has never had. Yuri can’t help but think of him as younger than he is; he doesn’t remember ever looking this vulnerable, even as a child.

Yuri traces around Yuya’s eye socket, and delicate eyelashes tickle his fingertip as he feels the ridge of bone just underneath the lower eyelid. It’s a marvel that Yuya still hasn’t woken. Perhaps they are so intrinsically similar that Yuya’s body recognises Yuri’s touch as his own.

Gently, Yuri rests the tip of his thumb against the far corner of Yuya’s right eye. It would be easy, too easy, to hook it in and pop his eye out; it would come wet and messy with the optic nerve still attached like an umbilical cord. It would sit in Yuri’s palm and drip clear, blood-tinged juices through the gaps in his fingers, and the red, red iris would never break his stare.

Yuya wouldn’t be happy about losing an eye, and then he would whine and cry and pity himself, and his befuddling personality would only be more upset if Yuri made them even and took out one of his own. Maybe they could swap. One red eye, one pink eye. Yuya would also cry about it, probably, but his tears might make it easier to stuff the foreign eye in his socket. Of course, neither eye would actually _work_ , but Yuri thinks Yuya with one of his eyes might look rather nice. It’s the principle of the thing, he supposes. They are already so similar, and this would begin to mesh their borders until Yuya is Yuri and Yuri is Yuya.

As tempting as the idea is, Yuri can’t go ahead with it. He is a soldier of Academia, and he will see many more battlefields in his lifetime – there are still two entire dimensions waiting to be conquered – so deliberately impairing himself is stupid.

Yuya still isn’t waking. Going for so long without food really has done a number on him. (Yuri is not sorry and never will be, despite what he says to Yuya’s face.)

Yuri stands before he can do something idiotic like try to cram his fingers into the various orifices of Yuya’s face. There are insects that do that, he knows, disgusting things that crawl into ears and live inside them, and it makes Yuri want to do the same and then eat Yuya from the inside out.

He won’t, though. He is going to find some other way to amuse himself.

Yuya’s room (cell) is woefully dull and empty. Yuri will give him a chance to customise it and make himself at home later. For now, it is bleak and impersonal, which makes it very boring to explore.

Except that his deck is in here. Yuri has already taken Yuya’s Duel Disk away, right at the very start, but he’s left his cards. Yuya had spent a lot of time looking at them in the two days he was locked up alone. The security cameras aren’t particularly high-definition, so Yuri hadn’t been able to see the images or text on the cards, and he hasn’t had the opportunity to go and peek through them until now.

The cards sit on the table in two neat piles; Main Deck and Extra Deck. Yuri goes for the Main Deck first. He’s not sure why.

He sorts through Spells and Traps and monsters alike, never passing one over, just in case. The majority of Yuya’s cards are an archetype called Entermates that Yuri has never seen before. They’re ridiculously bright and colourful; childish, even. He’s yet to find one that doesn’t have a stupid pun in its name. They suit Yuya well, really. Yuri never would play such cards.

What really snag his attention are the other cards; the Magicians. They could tie loosely into the colourful circus theme of the Entermates, but there is an obvious disparity between them. The magicians look more serious. It’s amusing, though, that they all come in pairs. Stargazer Magician and Timegazer Magician set the Pendulum Scales one to eight, and Creation Magician and Destruction Magician set the Pendulum Scales three to eight.

There is one card that stands out amongst all the rest.

Odd-Eyes Pendulum Dragon.

It almost seems to glow in the room’s dim light.

The second Yuri touches it, sparks jolt up his arm, and he drops it with a gasp of pain. Nevertheless, he won’t be defeated by a _card_ , and he grabs it and holds it until the cardboard threatens to bend and the electric feeling stops. Odd-Eyes Pendulum Dragon simmers in Yuri’s hand, but outside of a Duel, there’s not much it can do.

Having now won his petty fight with the card, Yuri puts it back. He can still feel the anger emanating from it, but he’s more interested in the Extra Deck now. Standard; the jack of all trades, master of none.

Yuya’s Extra Deck is interesting, to say the least. Strangely enough, it’s devoid of Synchro monsters, but it has just about everything else.

Dark Rebellion Xyz Dragon reacts to Yuri even more violently than Odd-Eyes Pendulum Dragon, but this time Yuri lets it slide. He disdains Xyz monsters. Besides, he can look at Dark Rebellion just fine where it is on the table – and he’d recognise that dragon anywhere. The first and last time he’d seen it, it had been in the possession of a different boy with the same face.

_How did you get your hands on this, Yuya?_

Odd-Eyes Rebellion Dragon is something unnatural. It doesn’t try to burn Yuri like its two namesakes, but it doesn’t have to. It feels hostile, but curious. Destruction incarnate in his hands, the wrath of two souls, and it stirs something similar in him. Yuri puts it back before it can captivate him.

Rune-Eyes Pendulum Dragon and Beast-Eyes Pendulum Dragon welcome him like an old friend, and there isn’t a doubt as to why. Pure Fusions; made of the same raw power that Academia trains into its students.

“ _Don’t touch those._ ”

Yuya’s voice is raspy with sleep and shaking with unbridled rage. When Yuri turns around to look at him, he’s forcing himself to sit up.

“Your Fusion monsters are interesting, Yuya.”

“I _said don’t touch those!_ ”

Yuri puts them back as slowly as possible, gleefully watching every twitch of fury in Yuya’s face the whole time. “What’s wrong, Yuya? Does it bother you that we’re alike even here?”

“I – They’re – They’re _not yours,_ ” Yuya snarls. “They’ve got nothing to do with you, or Academia! I’ve got those Fusions because of Yuzu, and you’ll never—”

“Yuzu?”

Yuya immediately pales and shuts up. Yuri’s tempted to give him the most horrible grin he can, but tones it down to a knowing smirk. “A shame, if that’s the case. If I was you, I’d want stronger Fusions than the kind her power could give me.”

“You—”

“I hope those don’t indicate too much of your power, Yuya. She was a disappointingly easy fight; you’d better not disappoint me too.”

Yuri leaves, just because he can, and ignores every one of Yuya’s cries of “ _Get back here!_ ”  
 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "BITCH ITS BEEN A YEAR" actually its been three years. i started writing this in early 2015 and procrastinated writing this specific chapter until now. your welcome  
> i have the next few chapters already done so more regular updates from now lol

The tower is cold. Not physically – the room temperature is set at _just perfect_ – but it’s small and isolated, reaching endlessly into the sky where there is no companion but the howl of the wind.

Rin’s world is achingly lonely without Yugo by her side.

In every nightmare she’s imagined, every horrible turn her life could take, the possibility of being separated from Yugo has never been _real._ If they were arrested and locked into the Facility to rot, they would’ve been there together. If they lost in the Friendship Cup and were tossed underground to labour until their bodies broke down, they would’ve been there together. Rin has never been alone.

But now she is, and the distant roar of waves on the shore is killing her. She wonders if Yugo feels the same.

In the last few days the wind has been almost distressed, wailing louder than ever, beating on the windows and raging against the walls. The moon, dim as it is in the ever-grey sky, is as bright and harsh as a miniature sun. It means something, she knows. Staring out the window gives Rin an unnatural sense of foreboding, like something dark is shifting under the earth, reaching out with claws of disaster. The last time she had felt this, her kidnapping had happened that night.

She glances at the clock by her bedside – 23:31 – and then drops to her hands and knees to shuffle underneath the enormous bed given to her. It’s become a routine. The one thing she can do to fight back.

Every second night, something downstairs in the tower flickers on for a few minutes on the stroke of midnight. Whatever it is, it shines pale light through a small hole in the floor under the bed in Rin’s cell, and every time it comes on, she investigates it. Slowly but surely Rin has been wearing the hole bigger with whatever tools she has available. Mostly stolen cutlery from her meals, anything sharp or tough she can get her hands on. The toolkit she’s always kept on her person had been taken from her on the first day.

The hole is big enough to shove her arm in up to the elbow now. Rin hasn’t managed to find anything down there yet except for an uncomfortable heat radiating from the light source, which is too bright to look into directly now. The stone tiling is cracking around it, and slowly but surely, Rin is going to break her way out of here.

She has a family to get home to.

*

“Hey.”

The voice is familiar, but distant.

“Hey.”

Yuzu blinks slowly, squinting a little as her vision focuses. All she can make out is a mass of colours; yellow and blue and white.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

The colours sharpen, and Yuzu abruptly realises that the person speaking is about five centimetres away from her face. As a reflex, she screams and shoves him away as hard as she can.

She scrambles to sit up – she can hear his cry of surprise as he falls backwards – and then unsurely glances up at the loud _crash._

The boy is at the bottom of a hill; she’s a few metres above him. The crashing noise was him slamming into a white motorcycle, which has been toppled under his weight. He sits up and gingerly rubs at the back of his head, glaring at her. “And here I was talking to you because I was worried… What’s wrong with you!?”

Well, in her defence, he’d spooked her. He shouldn’t have been so close!

Realisation sets in as Yuzu looks at his irritated face. Yuzu’s seen Yuya in every sort of mood, and petulant and angry are no exceptions. Except she’s never seen Yuya wear a biker suit before.

He gives her space, which is nice. He seems to be more concerned about having possibly damaged his motorcycle, which is kind of rude. Yuzu stands up and walks down to where Yuya’s lookalike is fixing something in the wheel, and looks around.

She doesn’t recognise the area around herself at all. It doesn’t _appear_ to be Miami City, but they could just be in a different section of the city, or even a different city altogether.

He stands and wipes at his brow, smiling with relief. “Looks like nothing was broken, but…” He turns to look at her, and Yuzu blinks. “Be more careful, alright? Building this thing was a lot of work!”

“Where are we?” Yuzu asks.

He grins. “The City! My hometown!”

Yuzu stares out at the horizon. ‘The City’ has a strange structure; there are high-rises everywhere, built on platforms above other high-rises, and the silver towers seem to be competing to reach the furthest up into the orange sky. The sunset dyes the canals honey-gold, and even the grass of the park around her has a golden tinge to it.

It’s beautiful, but…

“What about the Battle Royal!?”

He stares at her in confusion. “Huh? What’s that?”

“The Junior Youth Championship’s Battle Royal,” Yuzu explains urgently. “The Miami Championship’s…” She trails off. Yuzu had been separated from the other contestants while trying to lead the Obelisk Task Force away from Serena’s trail, and just when she’d been surrounded, that Academia Duellist with Yuya’s face had intervened.

Yuzu would’ve been better off taking on the entire Obelisk Task Force than him. He’d chased her for hours and hours, until she’d been crying with terror and exhaustion, and when he’d cornered her, only her bracelet had saved her. And then this boy, another with Yuya’s face had appeared, and her bracelet had kicked in a second time.

“I was sent here along with him!?”

She recognises him from Yuya’s description of that night, just before the Battle Royal. _“And Yugo, another guy who looks… who looks just like me.”_ Just like Yuya…

“Could you be… Yugo?”

He grins. “Yeah, I’m impressed you know my name!”

Alarmed, she steps back from him. “Then you’re with Fusion…!”

The grin melts right off his face, and he scowls. “The hell did you say!? Who are you calling Fusion!? My name is Yugo, get it right!”

He’s… a bit scary when he’s mad, if only because she hadn’t been expecting it. The utter outrage on his face, on Yuya’s face, is disorienting.

But he sighs and turns away from her. “You really aren’t Rin.”

“Huh?”

“Because Rin would never get my name wrong,” Yugo says crossly.

“Rin?” Yuzu knows that name. She’d been compared to ‘Rin’ by Yuya’s Fusion lookalike, who’d said that her defiance was similar to Ruri’s and Rin’s. But he’d caught them in the end, and there hadn’t been a doubt in his mind about his ability to catch her too. “Back then… The Duellist who was trying to capture me said he had captured Ruri and Rin…”

“What!?” She’s got Yugo’s attention now. He’s suddenly fired up, both angry and determined. “You met the guy who kidnapped Rin!?”

“Right before you appeared, I was Duelling him… Who is Rin?”

“Where’s that guy!?”

They both lean in towards each other aggressively, silently demanding answers. But for all the resolute stubbornness in Yugo’s face, Yuzu can’t answer him. “I don’t know. Right after that, the bracelet shined and he disappeared.”

“Disappeared!?”

“And then you appeared…” She stares down at the bracelet on her right wrist. It looks normal, innocuous, its metal bangles gleaming in the setting sun. “Up until now, the bracelet has shined plenty of times, and it would always happen when I was with someone who looked just like Yuya. Then, when the light finally dimmed, they would be gone, and Yuya would always show up. So I thought Yuya had come that time as well…”

And she’d been relieved. She’d been so relieved; it was like all her desperate prayers had been answered, and the nightmare was over. But it hadn’t been Yuya. Yuzu hasn’t seen Yuya since the Battle Royal started. She’s stranded alone in this unfamiliar City, with a boy who looks so much like Yuya, but isn’t.

“And the after that, the bracelet shined again, and before I realised it, I was here. This isn’t Miami City, is it? The city that I lived in…”

Yugo shrugs. “I already told you, this is the City.”

She’d let that slip by before, but now Yuzu’s desperate for an explanation. “The City?”

Just like that, Yugo’s smiling again. “The town I was born and raised in! A different dimension from Standard where you’re from.”

“A different dimension?” Yuzu repeats, feeling her heart drop to her stomach.

Yugo doesn’t seem to notice her reaction. “I can’t blame you for being surprised. This is your first time crossing dimensions, isn’t it?”

“I’ve crossed dimensions!?”

“Yeah!” Yugo points at his chest. “I’ve crossed over tons of times, trust me! Although, in my case, it just sent me back home.” He gazes out at the park at the bottom of the hill. Yuzu can’t help but follow his eyes; the park is pretty, with an elaborate fountain and children quietly playing around its base. “But of course, the first time I was thrown across dimensions, I was scared stiff!” He reaches down to his bike, and pulls a card from the Duel Disk. “That was the day when Rin was kidnapped…”

He continues speaking, his eyes fixed on the card. “I had thought Rin was being followed for some time before it happened… I was on the lookout for them. But I…” His mouth twists into a bitter scowl, and he sits down heavily on the grass. Yuzu sits beside Yugo cautiously, curious about his tale. “I was too late. He’d already got her. I only saw his face before he disappeared; it was the exact same as mine. And then Clear Wing glowed, and when I came to, I realised I was in Heartland.”

“Heartland? In the Xyz dimension?”

“That’s right. I still don’t know why I was brought there. I had thought that maybe Rin was somewhere inside that ruined city… I looked all over. And then I saw him; that guy that looked like me. So I started a Duel with him.”

“So your Duelling opponent was…?”

“An Xyz user with the same face as me! I found him to get Rin back…”

But— “You’re wrong! That person was Yuto!”

“Yuto?”

It had all been a stupid, stupid case of mistaken identity, and that one confrontation had, well, screwed them all over. “Yuto is trying to find Ruri, who was captured from the Xyz dimension. There’s no way that Yuto would kidnap someone precious to you!”

“P-Precious to me!?” A bright blush lit Yugo’s cheeks, and he started nervously scratching at the back of his head.

“Isn’t that it? Rin is your girlfriend, right?”

“Nononononono!” He waved a hand at her, and then began fidgeting, rocking side to side, still blushing. “We’re just childhood friends! We’re not together! Besides, we haven’t really done anything…”

This is going nowhere. As cute as his obvious crush on Rin is, Yuzu really needs Yugo to explain the more important things. “But then, why were you sent to Heartland?”

His nervous babbling immediately cuts off, and his face goes serious again. Yugo holds up the card he’s been looking at – Clear Wing Synchro Dragon. “This guy let me chase after them! It must have understood my feelings of wanting to save Rin.”

It takes a few seconds for both to make the connection, and they gasp at the exact same time.

“Then that means the guy who kidnapped Rin…”

“… Might have been there!” Yuzu finishes for Yugo. “He must have been nearby when you were Duelling Yuto!”

How he must have laughed. The only people who knew his existence outside of Academia, his only two threats, and they’d turned on each other. Oh, how he must have laughed.

“What!? So it was all a misunderstanding!?”

“That’s got to be it,” Yuzu says. “The Duellist who tried to kidnap me looked a lot like Yuto! Those two, and you, and Yuya too. When I was with Yuto, Yuya appeared. And when I was about to be captured by that person, you appeared! It may not be a coincidence…”

“Not a coincidence…?” Yugo parrots, confused. “Then that means Clear Wing Synchro Dragon has been guiding me this entire time?”

“I don’t know. But just maybe, you guys…”

“You guys?”

“All of you with the same face are being drawn towards each other!”

It’s a troubling thought. Yuto and Yuya had been drawn to each other since Yuto had arrived in Standard, and only Yuzu’s bracelet had kept them apart. When they’d finally met, it had been no coincidence that Yugo was drawn to the same location.

“That’s right… back then, that guy had the same face as me… No, no, no, hold on! It’s just a coincidence that someone who looked just like me was there! There’s no way—”

“It’s not just you,” Yuzu interrupts.

“Huh?” He looks at her for a few seconds, and then understanding crosses his face. It makes Yuzu wonder about the similarities between herself and Rin, and how different they are. “Don’t tell me…”

“I have two other people aside from Rin who look just like me. One is Ruri, and the other is Serena.”

“Serena?”

“She’s a Duellist from Academia, just like the guy who kidnapped Ruri and Rin. Our world is split into four dimensions. Fusion, Synchro, Xyz, and Standard. Academia plans to unite these four dimensions into one.”

“Unite all four into one?”

“To do that, Academia started a war.”

“To think they’d go that far…” Yugo must be remembering the ruins of Heartland; Yuzu has never seen them, but she’s seen the shadows in Yuto’s face, and the burning grief and rage in Kurosaki. “In other words, this Serena is a comrade of the bastard who kidnapped Rin? She’s part of the villain army!?”

Yuzu nods reluctantly. “Yeah. But now she’s being chased by Academia.”

“Chased? Why?”

“The Professor, the highest authority at Academia, plans to gather those who look like Ruri, Rin, and me. It must be the same with Serena.” It still sends chills down her spine; the thought of being part of some sort of _collection_. “I don’t know why he’s planning to gather us. Why do the four of us have the same face? Why do the four of you look alike too?”

“I got it.”

Yugo suddenly sounds confident, free of the morose seriousness that he’d displayed the last few minutes. When Yuzu looks at him in confusion, he stands, and he’s grinning.

“In any case, Rin is at Academia.” His hand lands on her shoulder, and his eyes are feverishly bright, glowing like the sunset behind him. “Let’s go!”

“Go? Where?”

“It’s obvious!” Two hands. Yugo’s leaning in closer, and he’s inadvertently pushing Yuzu backwards a little. She doesn’t want to let it show, but she’s freaking out a little on the inside. “Since we know where Rin is, we’ll just storm in there and bust her out!”

“Storm into Academia? How?”

Yugo grabs Yuzu’s arm, just under her wrist, and holds up her bracelet. “With this! We already know you can cross dimensions with it, it’ll be easy! If it can take us to the Synchro dimension, it can take us straight to Academia too, right?”

Yuzu grimaces and bites her lip. “I… I can’t control it. I’m sorry.”

Yugo’s entire face falls. It makes Yuzu feel like she’s just kicked a puppy and told it Christmas was cancelled. “I don’t understand.”

“I told you, didn’t I? The bracelet only shines when I’m with someone who looks like Yuya, and right when Yuya appears, it shines and they’re teleported away. I think I was teleported with you because you were touching me. It’s never happened before.” It hits her, suddenly, how far away she is from home. Yuzu stands and moves away from Yugo, not wanting him to see her break down like a frightened, lost child.

He calls out to her anyway. “Then we’ve just gotta bring that Yuya guy here, right?”

“That’s why we can’t.”

“Why can’t we!?”

“Because…” Yuzu gives up trying to choke back the tears and they spill freely down her face. “Yuya isn’t here!” She hiccups wetly and sinks to her knees, burying her face in her hands as her shoulders shake. “We’re worlds away with no way to get home!”

Yugo doesn’t say anything for a while, just as lost as she is. Eventually, he mumbles an awkward “here,” in a voice softer than Yuzu has heard from him so far. When she looks up, he’s got a handkerchief in hand and glancing down at her guiltily. “Sorry.”

Yuzu dabs at her face and cleans herself up as best she can. Her face still feels a little gross, but it’ll do. “If I could use this bracelet to freely cross dimensions, I’d just want to go home. Where Yuya, dad, and everyone else is.” 

_Where everyone else is._ Where the Obelisk Force are, prowling the streets for victims to turn into cards. Where that terrifying Fusion soldier with Yuya’s face is. Where all of the people she cares about are in danger, and Yuzu has no way to know if they’re safe or hurt or turned into cards—

A sudden hope springs into her head and she stares up at Yugo desperately. “Can’t you do the same with that card? How does it transport you?”

“Sorry,” Yugo repeats dejectedly, shuffling a hand in his pocket to pull out the card in question. “I can’t make this guy shine on my own either. He’s only done it twice, and I don’t know what causes it.”

Great. A teleporting power even more useless and confusing than hers. Yugo kneels down in front of Yuzu, his face shy and apologetic. It makes him look so much like Yuya that Yuzu struggles not to burst into tears again.

“I’m really sorry. I always say the first thing that comes to my mind… Rin would always lecture me about thinking before I speak. It’s… it’s not easy being without her. She was always there, you know?”

“Yeah,” Yuzu agrees, thinking of how she and Yuya have known each other their whole lives. Their families had always been close, and being lost and stranded without that comforting support there is looking more daunting by the second. But she won’t give up now. There’s still a chance to get home.

Yugo’s eyes are misty, and his sad little smile breaks Yuzu’s heart. “She’d always give me an earful. It was always like that, all _don’t do this, don’t do that, if you eat that fast you’re going to give yourself a stomach ache—_ ”

Yuzu giggles. “She sounds like a mom.”

“I know, right?” Yugo grins again, and it droops again just as quickly. “Well, Rin and I don’t know what our real mothers look like, though…”

Before Yuzu can say _I understand, I don’t either,_ their attention is drawn by a child’s laughter as it approaches Yugo’s unattended bike. The child’s mother immediately swoops in, snatching up her baby with a squawk of _“Don’t touch that!”_

Yugo panics and jumps down to his bike, frantically pulling his helmet on and fiddling with functions Yuzu doesn’t have a hope of understanding without some very thorough explanation. The engine flares to life with gorgeous white light, refracting thousands of colours chasing each other through the pipe.

Yuzu quickly follows Yugo down, asking him what happened, but she doesn’t miss hearing the mother – a fancily dressed woman, all fine lace and a rather garish hat – scolding her son. “Why would you do that!? What if you got infected!?”

Infected?

The woman raises her voice then, “Someone! Someone come here! Anyone!”

Well, that doesn’t sound good. Yugo tosses Yuzu a spare helmet and gestures agitatedly at his bike. “Put it on!”

“Why? What happened?”

“Over there…” The woman sounds almost hysterical, but there’s an undercurrent of disgust in her voice that makes Yuzu bristle. “There are Commons over there!”

The men who have come to her aide turn around, their faces twisted in the same disgust, and it’s directed at Yuzu and Yugo. “You’re Commons!?” “This villa is for Tops only!”

“This is bad…” Yugo grabs Yuzu’s hand and tugs. “C’mon, get on! We’ve gotta get out of here fast!”

“Why?”

There are more voices coming closer, sounding progressively angrier and angrier. _“Everyone, get over here!” “Some Commons have snuck in!”_

Yuzu leaps onto the back of the motorcycle in a panic, her fingers somehow finding the small steel handleholds made for a passenger, and Yugo takes off. They’re out of there and onto a highway in a matter of seconds. The City is brilliant at night, all colourful lights and noisy vehicles and impossibly tall buildings lined with dark glass windows.

They’re safe for now, but not for long, Yuzu knows that for sure. Despite her current predicament, her mind is a million miles away, on the people she loves in the middle of a beginning warzone.

All she can do is hope they’re safe and come home as soon as possible.

Yuzu tightens her grip on the handles and stares determinedly out at the seemingly endless road stretching in front of them. She’s going to get home no matter what. Her dad will be safe, the kids will be safe, and Yuya will be safe.

She doesn’t want to call it lying to herself, but it’s pretty close.

*

The very first thing that crosses Serena’s mind upon arriving in the Synchro dimension is a long, frustrated, unladylike string of curse words. Yuzu would have blushed.

There should be nine Lancers. Eight, since Yuya is gone. Reiji had deemed it unsafe to attempt to rescue him, because it is most likely that Yuya has been taken to the Fusion dimension. They will most unfortunately have to make do without him.

And without the rest of the Lancers as well, it seems. Apart from Serena herself, only Sawatari Shingo and Akaba Reira are in sight. There is not a trace of the rest of their party.

Evidently, something has gone wrong during the transportation process. What exactly has gone wrong, and what had happened to the rest of the Lancers, Serena doesn’t know. They could have been left behind in Standard, scattered across the Synchro dimension, or lost somewhere in between.

She walks forwards, curiously observing her surroundings. They appear to have arrived in the slums of the city, judging from the run-down, neglected state of the buildings around them. This particular section must have been abandoned a while ago; otherwise the bright light and sudden appearance of people would have brought curious people over.

“Teleporting across dimensions sure ain’t pleasant,” Sawatari grumbles at her side, rubbing at a knot in his shoulder. Serena, who has suffered no ill effects whatsoever, ignores him. Sawatari already proved himself to be a bit of a whiner in the meeting before they’d left.

This must be the Synchro dimension, she thinks. The area is in poor condition but not the deliberately destroyed kind that it would be if it was the Xyz dimension, Standard doesn’t look like this, and from what Serena’s seen of the Fusion dimension across the ocean, it certainly doesn’t have a city built on top of another city.

The world above is illustrious, gleaming blue and the complete opposite of the unloved area that they stand in now. She can’t see much of it from down here but what she can see is luxurious beyond reason, built more artistically than practically, but for the way it stands high, fortified, almost within reach but deliberately held away.

She doesn’t like it.

Serena’s ripped from her thoughts by the sound of tires screeching against concrete. She whips around, flicking her duel disk on instinctively as she does so. And she’s right to do it.

“We have you completely surrounded!”

*

The other motorcyclists drive off down the beaten road, and Crow turns to face Serena and what remains of the Lancers with a brilliant, relieved smile that makes absolutely no sense. “Rin, what were you _doing!?_ Where you have been!?”

Reira ducks behind Serena and fists his little hands in the back of her jacket when Crow takes a step closer, and Serena’s so surprised at the sudden touch that she nearly jumps out of her skin and instinctively moves to shove him away before her brain registers what’s happened. Her hands hover at her side and she’s wracked with a piercing, awful guilt when Reira lets go of her jacket and backs away.

Crow frowns and Serena notes that his stance changes slightly; where he was previously welcoming he’s tense and ready for an altercation. She looks at Sawatari, who appears to be oblivious to the situation, and unhappily realises she’ll have to defuse the situation her ignorance may have started.

“I’m sorry,” Serena says. The words feel thick and uncomfortable in her mouth. “I’m not good with children. And I don’t know who Rin is. My name is Serena. That's Sawatari and Reira.”

Crow’s eyes study her intently, and Serena tries to make her face not form into a defensive scowl. “So you aren’t,” he says eventually, and his shoulders drop like a weight’s been dumped on them.

The door swings open and a little girl’s voice calls out “Welcome home, Crow!”

Serena glances up at the doorway, reminding herself that children in Standard aren’t trained or even half as dangerous as the ones in Academia – and then that this is the Synchro dimension, and she has no idea what to expect here. She keeps her hands away from her Duel Disk but settles into a defensive posture, ready to run if she needs to. Crow doesn’t miss the motion and Serena tilts her chin up stubbornly at him, daring him to say something.

For some reason this makes Crow relax, and he turns to greet the child in the doorway cheerfully. “Hey, Amanda! Where are Frank and Tanner?” He ruffles through his motorcycle’s storage compartment and produces a small brown paper bag, which he then takes over to the entranceway.

“They’re in the city,” the girl, apparently named Amanda, explains. “They said they want to be the ones to help you out for once!” Crow ruffles her hair with his free hand as he walks inside, and Serena stares at the little girl, unsure of what they should do. Sawatari nudges her shoulder and Serena gives a small shrug in response, not taking her eyes from the entryway to the house.

Amanda smiles and bows politely at them, which Serena takes as an invitation inside. She leads Sawatari and Reira into the house, her eyes darting around to scope it out and determine if they’ve been lead into a trap. The inside of the house is plain and ordinary enough, but there are glaring cracks in the plaster of the walls and the beams of the roof are exposed.

It’s an odd sight, because Serena has never seen the interior of a building less than perfect. Academia’s grounds are meticulously maintained, and Akaba’s building had reminded her strongly of his father’s offices – cold, clean, and caging. Crow’s house is nothing of the sort. The organisation is haphazard at best, chairs unevenly pushed into the table, boxes of belongings stacked everywhere. It feels warm and lived in, and Serena feels a hollow pang in her chest.

Amanda bustles about making food, and Serena turns her attention to Crow. “Who is Rin?” she asks. “You mistook me for her, right?”

“One of my kids. I’ve raised her since she was little.” Crow looks Serena in the eyes as he speaks, and she appreciates he doesn’t flinch away or avoid looking at his missing daughter’s likeness. “She’s been missing for a few months, and my second eldest after her disappeared not a week later, searching for her.”

“She was kidnapped by Academia,” Serena says. “I’m sure of it.”

“Academia?” Amanda pipes up. “Like the school in the Tops?”

“The Fusion dimension,” Serena elaborates, keeping her gaze on Crow. “We’re interdimensional travellers. Academia began their invasion of the Xyz dimension three years ago, and we believe that their next target will be Standard or Synchro soon. The Professor, Academia’s leader, has been kidnapping girls with the same face as me during this.”

Crow leans back in his chair. “Alright, let’s say I believe you. Why’s this Professor kidnapping girls that have the same face as you?”

“I don’t know,” Serena grimaces. “I know he’s captured Ruri Kurosaki, from the Xyz dimension, and targeted Yuzu Hiiragi from Standard. I escaped from Academia not too long ago.” She catches Reira trembling out of the corner of her eye and tries her best to not be bothered. “If you don’t believe us, that’s fine. We need to get moving and regroup with the rest of the Lancers.”

She stands up from her seat, pretending not to hear Sawatari groan theatrically as he does as well. “Whoa, whoa,” Crow says, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “You don’t have anywhere to stay yet, do you? You’re welcome to stay here if you need to.”

“The offer is appreciated,” Serena replies sincerely. “But we need to find our comrades urgently.”

“Then search this afternoon, and rest here when you find them,” Crow offers. “You don’t want to drop dead of exhaustion out on the street. You’ll be safe here.”

Serena nods, feeling an odd fondness well up in her chest. “C’mon, Reira,” Sawatari calls out, waving as he heads over to the door. “Reiji would be super mad if we lost you.”

The mention of his brother’s name lifts Reira’s head, and his large, moonlike eyes are filled with a desperate fear as he scrambles to follow Sawatari. Kurosaki’s words echo in her head. 

_“A kid like that, fighting Academia with us? He’ll just get in the way!”_

“No,” Serena says aloud.

They can’t let Reira follow them. He had been too petrified by Sector Security to be helpful in escaping earlier, and despite Reiji vouching for him, Serena is yet to see Reira’s Duelling capabilities first hand. She won’t be able to look after a tag-along, much less a scared child.

Neither she nor Sawatari had even thought to shield Reira from Security; they’d just charged into battle like their instincts told them to. Dealing with children or consoling civilians had not been part of her training at Academia, and there had been little reason to learn. Serena does not have Reiji’s knowledge of how to handle his brother, and depending on Sawatari to do so would be foolish and naïve.

“I don’t—” she grimaces. “I don’t know how to look after a kid, and Sawatari will be even more useless.”

“Oi!” complains Sawatari.

Serena ignores him, and then kneels down to look Reira directly in the eyes. He looks lost, terrified, and confused, and that only cements her choice. “Reira, stay here with Crow. Sawatari and I will go alone.”

“But—my brother—” Reira ducks his head momentarily, his shoulders shaking, and then hesitantly meets Serena’s gaze again. “Please let me—!”

“No,” Serena says firmly. “If Sawatari and I haven’t found anyone by tomorrow afternoon, we’ll return to pick you up. Reiji wouldn’t want us to needlessly endanger you.”

That, she can be absolutely sure of. And Serena is willing to admit to her own flaws – she is a soldier, not a planner like Reiji is. Reiji would know how to best manage his brother in this situation. Serena is not a leader like he is yet.

They already owe Crow enough of a debt for rescuing them from Security’s grasp. Adding a little more won’t make that much of a difference. Crow already looks after three children of his own – as well as the missing Yugo and Rin – all of whom clearly adore him. Taking in another for a day or so won’t put much of a strain on his resources, and he will most likely have the skills needed to keep Reira calm in Reiji’s absence.

Serena determinedly avoids looking at Crow as she stands up, but accidentally catches a glimpse of his face as she turned to leave.

He looks proud.

Serena flushes, and practically slams the door behind herself.

She wonders if Yuzu would have been proud of her decision.

*

Sawatari has been awfully quiet, which is nice, but unusual. He is looking at Serena with a perplexed, thoughtful expression, and Serena is inclined to let him be as long as he isn’t actively making a nuisance of himself.

“Oi, Serena.”

“What?”

“What you did back there, with Reira…” Sawatari scuffs his shoe against the ground, looking pensive. “It was smart.”

Serena blinks. She hadn’t thought that Sawatari would think about what she’d said, and she hadn’t predicted that he would somehow know her own concerns without her saying a word. “Thank you.” It comes out slightly stiff, but it would do.

It still appears that he has more on his mind, so she leans against the wall, and waits expectantly.

Sawatari runs a hand seemingly nonchalantly through his hair, but Serena can clearly read the strain in the movement. “I was just thinking about Yuya, y’know? He would’ve known what to do with Reira.”

“Don’t dwell on it,” Serena says, perhaps a bit harshly. She sees no worth in thinking about how the situation could have been different; it would be about as productive as sitting around and moping.

“How can I _not!?”_ Sawatari splutters. “He should be here! He’s a Lancer! And then right at the last second, he gets kidnapped right in front of us by his crazy twin from another dimension! It’s stupid!”

Oh. He’s worried about Yuya.

Serena knows she’s about as tactful as a spoon and as comforting as a pointy stick, so she doesn’t try. She’ll only make it worse. Sawatari continues to talk, which seems to be enough for him. So he talks, and talks, and she listens.

“From what Akaba Reiji said before… There’s three of them, right? Yuya, the guy that took him, and what’s-his-face that hung around Kurosaki or whatever.”

_Yuto,_ Serena thinks. She doesn’t know the name of Yuya’s Fusion counterpart – he’d spoken quietly, obviously on purpose so that only Yuya could have heard, at least until he’d begun taunting Reiji. If Yuya’s doppelgänger had revealed his name, Serena hadn’t heard it.

“Four,” Serena corrects him. “Yuya mentioned another shortly before he was taken.”

“Wasn’t he talking about Fusion?”

“No, that was afterwards. He mentioned a Synchro Duellist by the name of Yugo.”

Sawatari tilts his head back, observing the barely visible, gleaming city above. “Synchro, huh?”

“One for each dimension,” Serena mutters absently. “Like myself.”

“Do you think it means something?”

Serena opens her mouth, and then shuts it. Because it _does_ mean something. Something possibly even bigger than the war between dimensions, something linked to why the Professor wants to gather Serena and her counterparts so badly. If it means nothing, then the mission to capture her counterparts wouldn’t have been secret from the rest of Academia. If it means nothing, she wouldn’t have been locked up like she had been.

But something unfamiliar in Serena urges her not to think about it. She frowns, disliking the feeling. It’s too similar to fear, too similar to the Professor shushing her when she’d asked over and over why she couldn’t go outside, why she couldn’t join the other students in their missions. Her bracelet hangs heavy around her wrist, the blue jewel sparkling mournfully in the sunlight.

“I don’t know,” she says.

They stand in silence for a while, until Serena can take it no longer. She begins walking towards the centre of the city again, assuming that Sawatari will follow her.

Sure enough, his footsteps follow hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didnt forget about ruri i promise, her section comes later


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and now back to everyones favourite channel, "yuri never learnt how to positively interact with another human being and it shows"  
> warnings for this chapter: vomiting, detailed descriptions of gore, a little general medical-related horror, and whatever the hell youd call somebody drooling into somebody elses mouth

Yuya is alone.

The world around him is pitch-black, and he can’t discern the ground from the sky. It feels as if he is standing on something solid, something that rumbles and hums like a great, infinite engine. However, unlike machinery, it has no heat, leaving Yuya to wrap his arms around himself to not to shiver in the cold, cold space.

Except then it moves, and it throws his feet out from underneath him and sends him sprawling across the not-ground. Yuya attempts to stand again, but gravity bears down upon him and makes his whole body like lead, until it’s an effort just to struggle to his knees. He forces himself to stay as upright as he can get, even though it’s painful. There is something else here, some alien awareness that is both gigantic and miniscule and watching him with non-existent eyes.

It makes its move. Gravity lightens, and when Yuya tries to rise to his feet, hundreds of bony, long-fingered hands grab at him. They pull and yank on his clothes and force him back to his knees.

They span the world for miles around, and Yuya is trapped in the heart of their cluster, where the concentration of hands is the densest. They’re pulling him down, he realises – his feet have already sunken out of sight, and when Yuya kicks to try to free them, they’ve gone numb as if they’re not there at all. 

The hands are climbing further upwards, swallowing him up further and further. They’re just reaching over his knees when they freeze.

_Tap, tap._

Yuya feels like he should recognise the sound. It has something like a click in it, and every nuance in the sound is intimately familiar, somehow. It echoes too loudly in the abject silence, making his ears ring, and it’s difficult to hear any noise over the roar of his own blood roiling through his veins.

_Tap, tap._

It’s shoes. Yuya can’t put a name to them – faces fly through his mind, but he’s forgotten every name except his own.

_Tap, tap._

The hands scatter. Some cling weakly to his clothes, but as the soft _tap, tap_ grows closer, they become terrified and scamper back into the shadows. The world is empty again but for the remaining hands scrambling away.

_Tap, tap._

They’re boots. Black ones, tall ones, on long, long legs clad in white. They move with a confidence so contagious that Yuya finds himself already halfway standing long before he registers that he’s even moved. It’s as if he’s been hypnotised as he walks forwards to meet his counterpart in the middle.

Yuri is a vivid shock of colour in the darkness, and his wild violet hair almost looks like a crown. He’s regal as he walks, covered head to toe in indigo and gold, and his red cape flares out around his body like wings. His pale face is moon-white by contrast, but his eyes, sharp and cunning and fuchsia, stand out from his face as brilliantly as stage lights.

The _tap, tap_ ceases at last as Yuri halts in front of Yuya; the tips of their shoes are touching. Perhaps they are close enough to be breathing each other’s air, now. It would explain the sudden wooziness that overtakes Yuya when Yuri meets his eyes.

Yuri lifts a single hand and places it on the back of Yuya’s neck, making Yuya shudder involuntarily. He tilts Yuya’s head back with a single finger under his chin, forcing Yuya to lean back against his other hand. Yuya doesn’t like that he’s being forced into a gesture of trust he does not have, but he’s strangely compliant anyway.

They stand like that for a precarious second, and Yuya contemplates the idea that Yuri could be as mesmerised by him as he is by Yuri. Strange.

Yuri smiles – and every sense Yuya has screams in horror in his head. It’s not a smile so much as a baring of teeth, lustrous white and abnormally sharp, but even those open themselves too, revealing black, inky liquid. It has a sheen even in the lack of light, and it’s thick and gooey as it swirls over Yuri’s tongue. Yuya’s mouth opens on its own in response as Yuri leans over him, and the sludge spills over.

Time stands still and Yuya is unable to move, frozen in place when the first fat droplet touches his tongue.

He wants to scream. He wants to close his mouth and shove Yuri away from him, but he can’t. Yuri’s hand on the back of his neck has him inexplicably immobilised, as if he’s reached right through Yuya’s skin and crushed the delicate vertebrae that his fingers rest on now. In this moment, Yuya wishes that Yuri would, just so his legs will stop shaking.

Yuri’s eyes are half-lidded, watching Yuya’s with dark satisfaction. They’re clear, too clear, and Yuya desperately wants to look away from the malevolence they contain. He is dizzyingly sure in that instant that Yuri is not human – he is everything undesired and wrong in Yuya that he has rejected from himself. He wonders how he’s never seen it before. His envy and resentment of Yuzu and her loving father in the stiff cut of his uniform, his doubt and insecurity in the unruly flow of his hair, his rage and bitter hatred sealed in the orbs on his shoulders, his mistakes and his failures in the crane of his neck. 

Yuri’s eyes reflect back to Yuya the sickness of his own mind, his desires and his selfishness. He is Yuya with his masks stripped back and his core on display; every warped, perverse thing about him placed directly in front of him where he can’t look away.

Yuri is everything that Yuya will never be able to escape.

The hand on the back of Yuya’s head slides upwards into his hair, cupping the back of his head as Yuri’s other arm curls around Yuya’s waist. Yuri’s soul-shattering eyes fall shut as he tips Yuya backwards. Yuya’s numb body can’t resist, and his traitorous mouth opens further as Yuri’s does; their new position will allow a torrent of lethal ink to cascade into him.

But it’s not a cascade any more than it was before. It’s like a slow drizzle of honey, except the honey is rotten beyond salvation and it oozes everywhere, intent on poisoning everything it can touch. Traces of saliva come with it, warm and salty and swirling around but never mixing with the sludge, like petroleum in water. Yuya can’t move as Yuri fills his mouth with it – he’s not passing it on, he’s sharing the infection, because Yuya can still see so much more waiting to rise up Yuri’s throat and spill over into him.

When filth pools under Yuya’s tongue and trickles over his lips, Yuri pulls back at last. He doesn’t wipe at his mouth when he closes it, leaving he last string of sludge connecting their mouths unbroken.

At least, until Yuya closes his own mouth. It’s instinctive, he still has no autonomy yet, and that’s why he swallows.

Wretched filth slides down his throat slowly, leisurely, scalding every square inch of delicate skin and muscle it touches. Yuri watches the bob of Yuya’s Adam’s apple with unnaturally bright, pleased eyes.

There are still stains of it in his mouth, coating the backs of his teeth and leaving gunk under his tongue, but it is _down, out,_ and Yuya exhales softly.

His body is his again.

He flexes his fingers unsurely, and then swallows out of nervousness, causing some of the foul matter left to come free and dart down his throat.

Yuya’s eyes widen.

He forces himself to cough, but only his own saliva – wet and blended seamlessly with Yuri’s – fills his mouth. His mouth still tastes like _it_ , vile and putrid, and he feels as if it will never go away. 

Yuya shoves two fingers into his mouth, trying to force himself to vomit that foulness back up. He chokes and gasps with dry heaves, but it won’t come back up. It has already sunken deep inside him, leaving filthy, oily traces in his throat, nesting in his stomach, and burning him up from the inside.

A column of flame climbs up his throat – but it’s not fire, it’s his own stomach acid, inflamed and diseased from what’s driven it out.

His legs give out on him, and he sinks to his knees in agony. Whatever Yuya’s swallowed feels alive, somehow, and it’s moving inside him, spreading and growing.

He can feel it move. It moves in tendrils, tiny, tiny feelers reaching out, crawling into veins and clogging arteries. Agony overtakes him as it bursts cell after cell, and every dead thing it leaves festers inside him, festers until they spawn more ink.

Yuya reaches further into himself until his knuckles hit his teeth and his fingertips scrape over the soft, mushy flesh past his tongue, and attempts to force his gag reflex to kick back in. He succeeds, sort of. He retches and heaves and doubles over in pain, clutching at his stomach, but it doesn’t come back up.

The world trembles beneath him, the engine’s purring shifting to growling, and light shines at last. There is no sun; it’s coming from beneath his feet, brilliant green emanating from hundreds of thousands of scales running in every direction. Gargantuan wings rise and fall in powerful strokes. They’re on the back of a dragon, and the same black filth that rots Yuya now runs in the gaps between its scales.

Yuri laughs.

*

Waking is like surfacing after having his head held underwater for too long. It’s slow to register in his mind, making him feel like he’s still in his dream, and only the sight of the white walls instead of darkness makes him realise.

Yuya struggles to sit up. The blankets are determined to encase him under their heavy heat, but he manages to kick them off. His pyjamas are made of a rather thin fabric, so he’s cold without the covers, but he doesn’t care. Anything is better than heat, on him and in him and taking him over, clambering up his throat and burning his eyes and—

He’s going to be sick.

Yuya nearly falls over when he stands and stumbles in the direction of the bathroom. He doesn’t walk in a straight line; he sways dangerously side to side and staggers blindly in zigzag patterns, nearly hitting the wall several times. His shoulder clips the doorframe to the bathroom, but he’s too out of it to take much notice of the pain.

His body is a little too cooperative in sinking to his knees, and he ends up slumped over the toilet, clutching the sides of the bowl with shaking, pale fingers. Fumbling around has only upset his stomach further, and he’s just barely made it in time to violently retch right into the bowl.

The burning in his throat is familiar but different. This time, it actually comes out instead of staying as a dam inside him. Stark relief follows immediately afterwards – it’s out, the sickness is out, he’s emptied himself of the wrongness—

The high is only temporary. He vomits twice more, each time just as painful as the last. He’s given a short respite after his third, but all Yuya can do is stare numbly at the contents of his stomach.

It’s strangely relieving. It shouldn’t be, but it is. What he’s seeing is utterly revolting – weird colours and half-digested chunks of food, mushy and clumpy and disgusting, but it’s normal. It’s not pure stomach acid, and it’s not that ebony ink, either. He was dreaming. He isn’t dreaming anymore. Those horrible things aren’t real.

In his next retch, Yuya is vaguely aware of gentle hands threading through his hair and pulling it away from his face. Gratitude crosses his mind, but is aggressively driven away by the desperate need to breathe. He coughs weakly, traces of bile dripping over, and then gasps for air. Each retch is getting shorter, at least. He’s struggling to breathe properly. His lungs are contracting, unusually empty, and he’s developed a pounding headache. 

He’s done now, he thinks. His stomach feels sore and empty, and his throat burns, and his mouth still has smidgens of bile in it. The hands holding back his hair move to idly massaging his scalp, and Yuya mindlessly leans into the motion. It feels nice, and he’s tired.

He slumps against the legs behind him. The owner of the hands is standing, evidently. Yuya catches one of the hands in his hair with one of his own – most reluctantly, because he doesn’t want them to stop his work, but he also wants to stand up, and he’s too weak to do it on his own. He winces internally at his unintentionally harsh grip; he’s still too shaky to move reliably.

But the other seems to understand him before Yuya can open his mouth and mumble his intentions, and helps Yuya to his feet without a word. Yuya’s legs threaten to give out several times, but he stabilises himself with as much determination as his fatigue-muddled mind can muster.

As soon as he’s mostly sure that he’s not going to fall down the second he moves, Yuya turns around.

Except his judgement is not as good as he thought it was, and he abruptly tumbles right back down. Tiles are not a good surface to land on. Yuya manages to avoid smacking his head, but his left ankle twists at a strange angle. It’s not hurting enough to have broken bone or tore a tendon, but the extra shock of pain is still aggravating.

There’s laughter above him and one of those hands is held out for him to take. But there’s no way Yuya can take it, not when his blood’s suddenly running cold – that laughter ignites searing panic in his chest, and in that instant he’s terrified, terrified of that laugh and the inky filth that laugh is going to pour into him, he wasn’t dreaming after all, it’s real, it’s real, it’s real and it’s going to eat him alive—

Those hands reach out for him, they touch his shoulder, and Yuya desperately scrambles backwards. But he’s coming closer, crowding Yuya in against the wall.

“Get _away_ from me!” Yuya shrieks, and shoves him away as hard as he can. Taken off guard, his assaulter falls and crashes against the shower door. But the way he’s sprawled out blocks the doorway. He’s still got Yuya trapped, even as he sits up and rubs at the back of his head like he’s actually hurt.

The human gesture clears some of the fog from Yuya’s mind. He’s not dealing with a monster. At least, physically, he isn’t.

Somehow, the sight of Yuri’s face is both reassuring and unsettling. The fluorescent bathroom lights wash out his pale skin even further and give a white glow around his head and shoulders, like a halo.

“Is there something wrong, Yuya?”

“Go away,” Yuya rasps. His throat still hurts and hasn’t taken well to even that tad of shrieking from before.

Yuri tilts his head to the side. “You always say that.” He’s not wearing his jacket, Yuya realises suddenly. The rest of his uniform looks kind of weird without it. Mostly it’s just that he looks a bit more like Yuya without the high collar. “Are you ever going to say anything else?”

“Go away.” Yuya immediately bites the inside of his cheek in an attempt not to laugh. He really shouldn’t be joking around here, but being stupid is helping to calm his frazzled nerves.

For a long moment, Yuri sort of just stares at him. “I won’t laugh,” he says. “That was what upset you before, isn’t it? Why?”

“Dream,” Yuya answers stiffly.

“Oh?” Too late, Yuya realises that he shouldn’t have replied at all. “You’re dreaming about me, Yuya?”

“Shut _up_ ,” Yuya snaps at him, feeling his cheeks heat with embarrassment. 

Yuri watches him with unadulterated glee. He’s still sitting on the floor against the shower wall where Yuya shoved him, and Yuya is still sitting on the floor where he fell when he misjudged his ability to walk. One of them really should have stood up by now. Personally, Yuya is waiting until he’s sure that his legs aren’t going to mysteriously turn to jelly again.

“That’s cute, Yuya,” Yuri coos at him, and Yuya abruptly remembers that he’s talking to a jerk. “All you ever say is _go away, go away,_ but I wouldn’t be stuck in your head if that was how you really felt.”

“I woke up vomiting after dreaming about you!” Yuya retorts.

“You have a point,” Yuri concedes, except the tone of his voice makes it sound like the opposite of a concession. “But that’s a rather strong emotional reaction, isn’t it? You still feel strongly about me.”

How does he – he’s twisting Yuya’s words around to suit himself, and anything Yuya says will feed into it further. He wants to tell Yuri how much he _hates_ him, but that’s exactly what Yuri is after. It’s too late for Yuya to say he doesn’t care at all, which he probably should have done in the first place. Yuri gets under his skin too easily.

“Go away,” Yuya says, and ducks his head to hide his face as much as he can under his hair. He’s tired of looking at Yuri’s face, and he’s tired of seeing that same face reflected in the large bathroom mirrors.

He’s starting to hate the sight of his own face.

Yuri stands at last, and he makes a short, jerky movement as if to walk towards Yuya, but thinks better of it and doesn’t. “Since you don’t seem to be particularly ill, I’ll be going back to bed.” He walks away with footsteps that echo too loudly in the small, silent space.

Yuri never looks back. In the short time that Yuya has seen him walk away over and over, he’s never looked over his shoulder. He’s turned around, but he’s never looked back. His confidence is strange; he’s so absolutely sure that he’s left no loose ends in whatever he’s been doing, and he’s certain that Yuya won’t attack him.

Yuya can’t, of course. He’s got nothing to fight with but his body alone, and he’s pretty sure that a purely physical fight would end in Yuri’s victory. Yuri is a soldier of Academia, and Yuya is not. The ability that Sora had displayed in his Duel with Kurosaki must have been trained into him by Academia. Yuya’s physical skill has always been honed towards performing on Action Fields, and people aren’t supposed to be trying to hurt each other in Duels.

Also, Yuya’s pretty sure that Yuri would fight dirty.

Yuya stands and wobbles a little; his right leg has been going numb without his notice. The pins and needles are annoying, but they go away soon enough. He drags himself back to his main room in silence.

The room is just as empty as it was before he went to sleep. Yuri is long gone. There’s not a trace that he was ever there, and for a moment, Yuya wonders if the entire encounter had been a hallucination induced by his nightmare.

He flops down onto the bed, not bothering to pull the covers over himself, and smothers his face in his pillow. His throat burns something fierce. There’s no way he can sleep like this.

Yuya sighs and rolls onto his front. His mouth tastes revolting, still, so he’ll have to get up and brush his teeth again, but he can’t be bothered just yet. He’s tired, and he’s thinking.

Why had Yuri come in? More accurately, _how_ had he known when to come in?

Yuya frantically glances around the ceiling, searching for anything that could be a security camera in disguise. He finds nothing. He’s never had to look for security cameras before; it’s never been an issue for him. He’s never done anything that would necessitate avoiding security cameras.

But Yuri had been only half-dressed, as if he had been called out on short notice. What had alerted him?

As if with a mind of their own, Yuya’s eyes turn to the drawer where his Deck is hidden. Odd-Eyes and Dark Rebellion had resonated that one night; he and Yuto had been drawn to each other like moths to a flame. And Yugo had said outright that Clear Wing had taken him to challenge Yuto again. Clear Wing Synchro Dragon and Dark Rebellion Xyz Dragon had resonated in a different way, but they drew their masters together all the same.

They all have the same face for a reason, but Yuya doesn’t have a clue why yet. They must all be drawn to each other, and their dragons act as magnets. Yuri must have a dragon of his own, something vicious like Dark Rebellion and wild like Clear Wing. It would have woken him and urged him to find Yuya. Maybe it was even how Yuri had known that the Lancers would be in the LDS tower.

Something twists sour in Yuya’s gut. He doesn’t like the idea that they can track each other, mostly because only the more hostile of his counterparts have shown the ability. If Yuto had known how, then he hasn’t passed that knowledge on to Yuya with Dark Rebellion Xyz Dragon.

Maybe having two of the dragons on him makes it easier to track Yuya.

He rolls onto his side with his back against the wall, and settles back into a deep sleep.

*

Yuya is woken by the sound of the door opening. It’s not even that it’s particularly noisy; it’s just that the room is otherwise dead silent. He sits up groggily and squints as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

It’s Yuri again, fully dressed this time, dutifully carrying a silver tray. The seriousness in his expression is unfitting for Yuya’s face. Their similarities are still so _bothersome_.

“Oh, good, you’re already awake.”

“Didn’t sleep well,” Yuya mutters, and then aims an accusing glare at Yuri. “You would know.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Yuri says smoothly. “Anyway, we don’t have time to play games today. Eat. Now.”

Yuya feels his hackles rise. No matter how long he stays here, he won’t take orders like that. “Explain what’s going on first.”

“Once you’ve eaten.”

“No! Tell me what’s going on!” Because there is something going on; it’s obvious from the look on Yuri’s face. It wouldn’t be schooled so perfectly blank if he isn’t hiding something.

“You’re being rather annoying.”

“ _You’re_ being rather annoying!”

“Eat your breakfast or I’ll throw it out.”

Yuya’s tempted to huff _“Fine!”was_ going to throw the nearest object. (A pillow, by the way.) It’s not his fault he stinks; he’s got nothing else to change into after showering except the same dirty clothes, and there are cameras everywhere anyway, so Yuya has just sort of been wallowing around doing nothing.

In retrospect, that was a bad decision and kind of gross.

So Yuya goes and showers. The water isn’t poisoned or anything; it’s just warm and soothing. Maybe Yuya should ask Yuri if there are cameras pointed towards the shower, and if there are, can he please turn them off, and why would he have those there in the first place, what kind of creeps are in charge of surveillance—

Yuya spends way too long in the shower. This is also not his fault. Somehow. Academia probably has sedatives in the shower water.

Of course, when he wanders out of the bathroom to find clothes like he has done for several years, everything goes wrong. There are clothes, at least, except Yuri is holding them, and Yuya is also wearing nothing but a towel loosely slung around his hips.

Yuya does the appropriate thing, which is scream and nearly drop his towel. Yuri stands there and looks indifferent.

“Go away!”

“I have your clothes.”

“Give them here and then go away!”

Yuri still looks utterly disinterested. “It’s really nothing I haven’t seen before.”

This is an even more valid point in the case of Yuya than it would be for anyone else in the world, but that doesn’t make Yuya any less embarrassed. His face heats at the thought of Yuri standing there, watching Yuya undress and redress. _Nothing I haven’t seen before_ , but it would be impossible for Yuri to ever have watched himself like this, his eyes roving up and down his own skin—

Yuya’s face feels like it’s on fire. “Give me my goddamn clothes, Yuri!”

Yuri smirks at him. “Actually, they’re m—”

The smug look on his face spikes rage in Yuya, and in an angry flurry, he jumped forwards and snatches the bundle of fabric, and then darts to the bathroom. Yuya slams the door shut behind himself and slumps against it, panting with adrenaline.

He’s probably in trouble.

Regardless, he can’t take it back now. With trembling fingers, Yuya unfolds what he’s stolen, and his heart skips a beat in his chest. A single, horrified beat. Most of the clothes are black and grey, simple and plain. But standing out from all the rest is the crimson jacket – the crimson, standard Academia uniform jacket.

Yuya’s long since dripped dry, so he pulls everything else on. The jacket he holds like it’s diseased, and the first thing he does upon leaving the bathroom is it throw it at Yuri’s face.

“I’m _not_ wearing that.”

“You don’t have much of a choice,” Yuri says cheerily. “Unless you like being cold and being stared at, in which my case, be my guest.”

“I want my other jacket back,” Yuya snaps.

Yuri has the audacity to wrinkle his nose. “You’ve been wearing that for four days and it still smells like dungeon. It’s already been sent off to the laundry with everything else.” He then tosses the red jacket back. “Nobody will look at you twice if you wear this. I’m sure that’ll help your escape attempts greatly.”

He needs a punch in the nose. Somebody needs to break Yuri’s nose and Yuya will gladly volunteer. “Fine, you bastard!”

When he goes to angrily shuck it on, he catches sight of the tag. There’s something there in faded black ink. Yuya awkwardly removes the jacket from where it’s half on one arm, and then stares.

It’s written in bold, neat katakana. _Yuri._

Yuya’s mouth goes dry. “This is yours?”

“Was,” Yuri corrects him, although not unkindly. “I haven’t worn it in a long time, and it’s not like I ever will again. You can write over the tag if you want.”

Yuya expects to have to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from spitting heated retorts again, but the anger never comes. He feels lost.

He knows, though, that he’ll never write his name on that jacket. It’d be like signing a contract, binding himself to Academia. Binding himself to Yuri. Yuya wants his own jacket back, the one that he’s had slung over his shoulders since the start of the school year, the one he wore when he still had Yuzu by his side. He’ll never sign himself over to Academia.

But as Yuya follows Yuri out into the hall, he can’t shake the feeling of a hundred eyes on that tag, even though it’s hidden by his hair. A thousand eyes staring at that label, the brand of Yuri’s name on Yuya’s neck.

*

“Where are we going, anyway?”

“Somewhere you haven’t been before.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“I know.”

“Just…” Yuya’s agitation is audible in his heavy, stomping footsteps. “Tell me something, won’t you? Stop keeping me in the dark all the time.” Metaphorically and literally.

“Hmmmm,” Yuri drags it out, just long enough to make Yuya wonder if he’s not going to say anything else. “I know where we’re going, but not why.”

Yuya blinks, and then frowns moreso than he was before. “How can you not know that?”

Yuri shrugs. “Orders from the higher ups. I had to report your existence after you were seen in the dining hall the other day. They want something with you, but I wouldn’t be too worried.”

“I don’t know how not to worry about something like that,” Yuya grumbles. “They really didn’t tell you anything?”

“There usually isn’t a need,” Yuri replies. “I just follow orders.”

It’s weird, hearing that from him. In the short time they’ve been acquainted, Yuya’s gotten the impression that Yuri is above the rules. He doesn’t take orders from anyone else, except apparently he does and isn’t even slightly bitter about it.

“We’re here.”

Yuya glances up from where his thinking has taken him to stare stupidly at his sneakers. The door in front of him is white, and the hallway looks a lot fancier than the ones in his wing of the fortress. Meticulously maintained, blank and shining, sterile in every corner. The door has a little label beside it; a sign that means nothing to Yuya, but Yuri frowns at it.

“This isn’t right,” he mutters, catching Yuya’s attention instantly. “There’s no reason to bring you h—”

The door opens.

The man that steps forwards to greet them looks a bit like a fox, from Yuya’s immediate opinion. His face is thin and long, and his eyes are dark and cunning. His pale, greying hair is just the side of unbrushed that makes it look untidy but not overly so, and he’s wearing a long white coat that Yuya recognises as a lab coat.

“Why has Yuya been ordered here?” Yuri asks bluntly.

The man – doctor, maybe – meets Yuri’s gaze unflinchingly. “Orders are orders. It’s not like you to begin questioning them now.”

There’s some sort of power play here; it makes Yuya want to jump in and yell at them both about how petty and pretentious they are. All these machinations are stupid. Yuya is tired of people playing games and pulling strings, and all he wants is to be left alone to rescue Yuzu.

Maybe Yuya needs a bit more rescuing than Yuzu does right now, though.

Doctor Whatever looks down his nose at them – not that he hadn’t been doing that already with how tall he is – and sniffs like he’s smelt something disgusting. “Both of you, inside, now.”

Yuri goes in first, with a little flick of his wrist to urge Yuya along, and Yuya reluctantly follows.

He’s not sure what he was expecting – it looks like an operating theatre. There are more doctors and nurses bustling around, busy with unfamiliar machines. There’s a single empty hospital bed in the middle of it all.

Yuya doesn’t understand. What he understands even less is the sudden rigidness in Yuri’s shoulders, and he understands even less than that the slight shift in Yuri’s stance, as if to push Yuya behind himself. Defensive. Not of himself, but of Yuya.

Uneasy, nervous tension squirms in Yuya’s stomach.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when a hand grabs his upper arm; the nails dig in like talons. “H-Hey, let go of me!”

It’s the doctor from before. His beady eyes are focused on Yuri. “Out.”

“I’m not leaving him alone with you,” Yuri snaps, and crosses his arms stubbornly. Something warm fizzles in Yuya’s stomach at the sight. He quickly banishes it.

“Orders, Yuri.”

“What are you going to do to him?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

There’s a quiet kind of tension, strong enough to cut through something solid. It makes Yuya want to hold his breath, just so he won’t disturb it.

Something gleams out of the corner of his eye – a syringe, a syringe filled with some clear unknown liquid, heading right for him.

Everything converges at once when the syringe plunges into Yuya’s arm. The pain barely has time to register before the numbness sets in, and so the last thing Yuya sees is Yuri’s pale face, his eyes wide with fear and panic as he’s dragged out of the room.

“YUYA!”

The door slams shut.

The world goes dark.

*

As soon as the door closes, the two doctors holding Yuri immediately let him go. He dusts himself off leisurely.

“I apologise for my behaviour just now,” Yuri says, watching the nervous twitches in their shoulders with amusement. “You followed my orders well.”

He receives twin jerky nods in response, and resists the urge to touch one of them on the arm as they turn and hurry away. They are right to fear his wrath, but that doesn’t make their cowering any less pathetic.

Yuri leans against the wall and wonders if he’ll be able to hear anything from this far away. He would have liked to stay in the room while the doctors do their work, but it would have run the dangerous risk of Yuya waking early and seeing him.

The next time, he’ll have to book an operating theatre with an observation room. The doctors aren’t doing invasive surgery; the process they are undergoing now is much cleaner than that. They won’t stick their syringes more than an inch in, they won’t touch the scalpels he knows they have stored.

A shame.

Yuri imagines straddling Yuya’s unconscious body on the operating table and doing surgery with his bare hands. He’d peel Yuya’s skin back, pry open his ribcage, and just sit there watching the delicate flutter of his lungs. He would reach in and cup Yuya’s heart, and it would pump and pulse erratically in the palm of his hand.

Like that, Yuya would finally resemble the uncanny, otherworldly creature he is. His face, Yuri’s face, would be so deathly pale that he hardly looks human, and his blood, Yuri’s blood, would run red. Red and staining the pristine white hospital bed, staining his pearly white ribs, staining his clothes, staining Yuri’s clothes, staining Yuri’s hands red with his own blood.

Yuri would touch everything, leaving his fingerprints smeared all through Yuya’s insides. He would etch his name into Yuya’s bones, rearrange his internal organs like clockwork and make him work the same but _different_ , and then close him up and stitch him back together. Yuya would wake, confused and drowsy from anaesthesia, and the first thing his pretty red eyes would see would be Yuri, his hands soaked with their blood.

Yuya had looked so small, so fragile, hanging unconscious in the nurse’s arms. Does Yuri look like that when he sleeps? Has he ever looked like that?

No. The only thing they share is their identical faces, nothing more.

“Y-Yuri?”

Yuri looks up. One of the twitchy nurses from before is halfway out the door; unfortunately, her frame blocks any sight into the operating theatre. Judging from the look of utter terror on her face, something’s gone wrong. Or everything is fine. It’s a bit hard to tell when they’re always scared of him.

“Yes?”

She hunches her trembling shoulders. “The modifications are complete, but… He won’t wake up.” 

Something strange and cold scuttles up Yuri’s spine. “What do you mean, he won’t wake up?” he demands.

She flinches as if expecting him to card her at that instant. “He just won’t wake. Everything has been disconnected, and the sedative should have worn off by now, but he hasn’t woken.”

Yuri would have stared her down, but her eyes are fixed on the floor. “Let me see him,” he snaps.

“I’m not sure if it’s permitted for you to go in—”

He reaches for his Duel Disk, and with a small, mouse-like squeak, she ducks inside, leaving the door open. Yuri sighs and almost rolls his eyes. People are too easy to intimidate when they wear their fear on their faces like neon signs. He walks inside, glancing around curiously.

Yuri’s seen the operating theatres before; they’re nothing special. All the machines have been shut off, and most of the doctors have scampered off, so there’s nobody to interrupt him.

On the hospital bed, Yuya is small and frail. He’s not this lifeless in true sleep; Yuri knows that from experience. It makes it more unsettling to see fiery, _alive_ Yuya reduced to a doll. Yuri walks over to him silently, and wonders what it is about Yuya that has him so enthralled.

Yuri touches Yuya’s face with his right hand, slowly stroking his fingers along the line of Yuya’s jaw, and then says, in the quietest of whispers:

“Let me in.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter: very graphic descriptions of gore, unreality and general mindfuckery, body horror mostly in relation to eyes/mouths/hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your comments sustain me like water for a thirsty little flower. every time i receive an email notification in regards to this fic i gain 2 serotonin. zarc bless you all

“I release my Superheavy Warrior Waka – 02 ‘Oni’ and my Superheavy Warrior Sword – 999 to Advance Summon my Superheavy Warrior Big Ben-K! Now, Yuya, I, Gongenzaka, am ready to fight you, man to man!”

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Yuya announces, and gently kicks Discover Hippo’s sides to make it jump to the top of the small building. “I activate the Quick-Play Magic Card, Hippo Carnival! It’s showtime!” The colourful hippos spring into action in a burst of pixels, and immediately begin to dance and giggle.

“What the…? Are you mocking me!?” Gongenzaka shouts.

Yuzu’s irritated voice, muffled by the glass screen, reaches Yuya’s ears. “For god’s sake! Take things a bit more seriously, Yuya!”

Yuya grins and ignores her. He ignores the indignation on Gongenzaka’s face too. All he cares about is capturing the attention of the mother and child watching him through the window. “This is the Entertainment Duel that the You Show Duel School prides itself on!”

And then the dancing hippos are gone.

Actually, everything is gone. Yuya barely registers that the Solid Vision System has turned itself off before he’s abruptly falling. “Whoa!” He hits the ground, hard, and then lies there until he remembers that he still has an audience. The kid looks concerned, so Yuya pulls the most ridiculous face he can, wiggly hands included for maximum effect.

The kid’s mother curls her lip and leads her child away.

Ten minutes later, Yuya sits in the main area of the You Show Duel School in absolute silence.

“MY HOT-BLOODED TRAINING!”

Shuzo sinks to his knees, overcome with despair. “The Solid Vision System broke down, the new applicant I was hoping for is gone now, and my You Show Duel School’s management’s…!”

Yuya pulls his goggles over his eyes, stares at the ceiling, and pretends he doesn’t care. “Aa-aah, if Yuzu hadn’t broken it, there’d have been more smiling.”

He manages to offend Yuzu before the sentence is finished. “It’s because you treat everything like a joke, Yuya! And look into my eyes when I’m talking to you!” She swats at him, but Yuya jumps out of the way and narrowly misses being hit.

Of course, fate has it out for him today, and Yuya crashes face-first into Gongenzaka’s chest. This probably hurts more than colliding with the ground earlier, because Gongenzaka is built like a solid rock mountain. “Ouch! You were still standin’ there, Gongenzaka?”

His quip rolls right off Gongenzaka’s stony expression. “That child didn’t laugh or smile.”

Yuya stands and removes his goggles; he probably has marks around his eyes from them getting pressed into his face. He waves a hand nonchalantly. “Huh? No way, I’m pretty sure he smiled.”

He fails to wave the conversation away, and in fact, Gongenzaka only becomes angrier. “Making someone laugh and being laughed at are as different as the Earth is from the sky! Your father, Sakaki Yusho, Duelled in a way that let everyone smile. Did you forget how they smiled, with their hearts into it!?”

That strikes a nerve, but Yuya doesn’t let it show. He balances himself on one leg and crosses his arms behind his head, closing his eyes so that emotions won’t shine through them. “Well, in the end, even my father ended up being the butt of a joke!”

It’s callous and he knows it, as do his friends. “YUYA!”

Yuya laughs.

“My oh my, you lot seem to be in a heap of trouble.” The voice is unfamiliar, coming from the doorway, and Yuya turns around curiously.

He doesn’t recognise the man that walks into the room. He’s tall and reedy, with dark hair and a short moustache. He’s dressed in a garish yellow and black striped suit, and vivid pink glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose. “I am the Manager-slash-Promoter of the current Action Duel Champion, Strong Ishijima. The name’s Nico Smiley.” He bows slightly.

Yuya tenses. “Strong Ishijima!?”

Everybody knows who Strong Ishijima is. Nico sits on the couch across from Yuya and Shuzo. “Strong Ishijima, who serves as the mascot for LDS, wishes to invite Yuya to his Fan Appreciation Day!”

“So me… with Strong Ishijima!?” Yuya can barely believe it.

But Nico Smiley gives him a wide, toothy smile. “Yes, and he wishes to Duel you. To make that three year old wish a reality.” Something about his tone is almost mocking to Yuya’s ears, and he chews at the inside of his cheek uncertainly.

Three years ago, Sakaki Yusho, the reigning champion, had been meant to Duel Strong Ishijima in front of one of the largest crowds that Miami City had ever amassed. Yuya still remembers the excitement, nearly bouncing over the edge of the stands, and he still remembers the confusion and heartbreak when his father hadn’t appeared. He’d been desperate to deny it, desperate to deflect the cruel accusations hurled at his absent father, but it had all meant nothing in the end. Sakaki Yusho had vanished.

Nico slides a poster across to Yuya. Strong Ishijima’s confident face is plastered right over the middle, but what’s important is that Yuya’s face is printed in the bottom right corner. “As you can see, everything’s already been prepared.”

Yuya swallows weakly over the rising panic in his throat. They’ve already set this up. He doesn’t have a choice. If he says no, it’s too late, and they’ll heckle him just like his father.

“‘Fraid not!” Shuzo interrupts sternly. “I can’t afford to send Yuya there.”

Nico jumps a little. “Eh, why not? The guests would be delighted to see the son of Sakaki Yusho there!”

“I won’t allow Yuya to be turned into a spectacle!”

Yuya blinks, and considers pulling his goggles back over his eyes. Maybe he doesn’t have to be forced into this after all; maybe Shuzo can protect him. The lump in his throat this time isn’t panic.

“For these past three years, Yuya’s been feelin’…” Shuzo trails off, his voice gritty with emotion. “Go show yourself the way out!”

“What a pity,” Nico says, sounding not at all upset and actually rather smug. He taps his fingers together idly. “If you were to accept, as a ‘thank you’ present, we were thinking of giving you the latest Real Solid Vision System from Leo Corporation LLC. Free of charge, of course.”

“Seriously!?” And just like that, Shuzo’s hooked. Yuya tries not to be too disappointed. He knows damn well that Nico Smiley hadn’t had any intention of giving them the new Solid Vision System unless they were difficult.

Yuzu smacks her father in the back of the head with her trademark paper fan. When he sits up, she puts her hands on her hips and scowls. “You just said you won’t let him turn into a spectacle!”

“Well… but…” But their Solid Vision System is currently busted, and it wasn’t even that good in the first place. The fields it generates are still pixelated around the edges, not like the lifelike holograms that LDS’ technology can produce. 

“Though our Duel School is important, too,” Yuzu acknowledges, but she’s still cross.

Feeling suddenly guilty, Yuya slinks away. Not one of them notices his absence. He leaves the building entirely, and goes to the bridge across the main river. He pulls himself up onto the fence and slides his goggles down over his eyes, and thinks.

Carefully, Yuya removes the pendulum necklace from around his neck, and holds it out in front of himself. It swings gently in the wind, back and forth, back and forth.

He wonders what his father would say to him now.

Yuya remembers being in a similar situation years and years ago, when he was still just a kid and things weren’t so bad. He’s been hiding under his goggles for years. It’s just a reflex, now, he doesn’t want anyone to see him cry.

His father had removed his goggles and let the pool of tears inside spill to the ground. Frantically trying to prove that he hadn’t been crying, Yuya had rubbed at his eyes, and then stilled at the feeling of his father’s hand on the top of his head.

_“When you feel like crying, just laugh. Laugh it off with everything you’ve got. When you laugh, you feel a lot happier. And then it turns into energy.”_

He’d then removed the pendant, and feeling strangely bereft without it, Yuya’s eyes had fixed on it as Yusho continued speaking. _“The same holds true for a pendulum. If you swing forward, you’ll always swing back. It’s the same in Duels.”_

_“In Duels?”_

_“If you curl up because of fear, you won’t be able to do anything. If you want to win, then bring out your courage and step forward! The more courage you put into things, the more happiness you’ll get out of them. The pendulum. Pendulums are tools that can be used to find things. If you ever lose your way, this pendulum will help to point you toward the direction you must go.”_

Yuya stares at that pendulum in front of his eyes now, and thinks.

_Sway…_

_Sway, pendulum…_

_Swing more… even more…!_

He knows what he has to do.

*

 _“And finally, today’s main event has arrived!”_ Nico Smiley announces. His voice comes out slightly grainy through the loudspeakers all around the stadium. “Here to challenge the champion, Strong Ishijima, is the one and only son of the legendary Duelist, Sakaki Yusho… Presenting Sakaki Yuya!”

Yuya swallows. Nico Smiley continues announcing.

_“This special match will be held using the Official Action Duel Rules! Activating Field Magic, Frontier Fang Castle!”_

The Real Solid Vision System rumbles into action, and light spreads over the stadium as the solid holograms forwards. The audience blinks the brightness out of their eyes, and where the beams have passed, a realistic field has replaced the plain stadium. _“Behold! It looks and feels so real that you could fool yourself into thinking it’s the real thing! This is the Solid Vision System created by LDS!”_

At the top of the tower on the field, materialised brick crackles under Strong Ishijima’s feet. “Whoa! Appearing on top of that castle is none other than the Supreme Ruler who has reigned above all at the summit of Action Duels for the past three years… Strong Ishijima!”

Strong Ishijima roars out a generic battle cry, and his adoring fans scream along with him.

_“And facing the Supreme Ruler is the young challenger, Sakaki Yuya!”_

But Yuya isn’t at the point where he’s supposed to enter. He’s doing things a little unconventionally.

_“Y-Yuya, any time now!”_

The audience begins to murmur. Yuya can’t make out what they’re saying from where he is, but he’s got a pretty good guess. He’s heard the same things over and over for the past three years.

The thing is, he’s already on the field. Strong Ishijima stands tall with his arms crossed, and Yuya tiptoes behind his unwary back and begins to bounce.

“I thought dragging out his son would get Sakaki Yusho to show his face…” Ishijima mutters. “Shit! I can’t call myself the Supreme Ruler unless I beat him down!”

The crowd has caught sight of Yuya and the faces he’s pulling now, and they’re whispering amongst themselves. Yuya’s dressed up a bit too fancily for them to recognise him – his Pierrot costume is pretty good.

_“Champion, behind you! Behind you!”_

“The hell?”

The second that Strong Ishijima turns around, Yuya gets right up in his face and wiggles his fingers at his worst. He rolls his eyes back and pulls at his nose and says, in the most ridiculous voice he can muster: “Boo!” As soon as it registers in Strong Ishijima’s face, Yuya springs away.

“Are you Sakaki Yusho’s son?”

Yuya bows.

“You call that the right attitude to face the champion with!?”

Yuya kind of wants to just say _yes, I think it’s perfect,_ but he sweeps his jester hat and makeup away with a flourish. “Pardon me, sir. Now then, I have a teensy little favour to ask of you.” He winks. “Please have a Duel against me!”

He stands up properly and raises his left arm as his Duel Disk activates. Yuya can’t resist posing a little as he settles into a battle stance. “Show me what you’ve got, great champion!”

“Show you what I’ve got!? You snot-nosed little brat!” Strong Ishijima activates his own Duel Disk, one with a deep purple blade. “Guess I’ll have to beat some manners into you with the skills of a pro!”

Yuya tries not to let it show on his face, but he’s nervous. This is the champion that his father hadn’t faced, and Strong Ishijima seems to view Yuya as an extension of Yusho to take his grudge out on.

Nico Smiley takes it all in stride. _“Oh my! There was a sudden, unexpected development out of nowhere, but at least the actors are now assembled! Now, you both draw five cards into your hand.”_ Yuya does, and watches Strong Ishijima do the same. _“After gathering at the Palace of Battle, the Duelists, alongside their monsters, kick up dirt and spin through the air as they dash across the field! Take a look at the greatest evolution of Duelling to date! Action…!”_

“Duel!” Yuya and Strong Ishijima cry.

Nico Smiley clicks his fingers, and cards are dropped from the sky to land all around the stadium. _“Action Cards have been scattered across the field! The fires of battle have been lit!”_

“I’ll give you the first turn,” Strong Ishijima says gruffly. “Guess I should tell you this beforehand just in case. You can’t draw on your first turn.”

Yuya wonders if it’s the clown costume or his age that makes Ishijima think he doesn’t know the basic rules of the game. He likes to consider himself a pretty good Duellist. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he shouts, and jumps towards the edge of the tower. There’s a convenient flying-fox swing leading to the ground below, and Action Duelling is all about using your surroundings. “From here on out, I am going to show you, dear viewers, what a _real_ Action Duel is all about!” He jumps at the swing and slides down; it makes a very realistic grinding noise against the rope.

“What!?”

Yuya starts as he’s still swinging, just to make it exciting. “To start off, the first thing I’ll do is summon Entermate Discover Hippo!” Discover Hippo materialises on the ground beneath him, and Yuya immediately ditches the swing to hop onto his monster’s back. He waves nonchalantly at Strong Ishijima. “So, by all means, try to catch me!”

He takes off. Yuya can hear the crowd’s dissatisfied murmuring, but despite what it appears, he’s not running away. What he can hear, though, is Strong Ishijima talking due to the connection between their Duel Disks. It’s important for opponents to communicate in a Duel, and with Action Duels, it can get a bit tricky. “I’m gonna kick his ass when I catch him. My turn! Draw! I activate the Magic Card, Savage Feast Level 5! It Special Summons two Level 5 Warrior-Type monsters from my hand with their effects negated! Show yourselves, Barbarian 1 and 2! Swamp and Lava Battleguards! I then release the two for an Advance Summon!”

Yuya continues urging Discover Hippo around the field. He’s almost surprised that Strong Ishijima hasn’t caught on to his plan yet, but Yusho has a reputation now.

“Emerge from the depths of the dense forests, tear through the thick trees and show yourself! King of the savage tribe who rules over the barbaric nations! Barbarian King Battleguard!”

Nico Smiley eagerly announces what’s just happened to the crowd. _“Here he comes! It’s Champion Ishijima’s ace monster!”_ The audience screams and cheers with delight at its appearance.

Yuya returns to face it; his little mission complete. It’s a pretty big monster, he’ll give it that. Very intimidating.

“Your old man may have escaped me, but you won’t! Battle! Barbarian King, attack his Discover Hippo!”

Yuya’s foresight shines through. He slams an Action Card down on his Duel Disk and grins. “Such luck! I got an Action Card! Action Magic, Evasion! Rolling Hippo!” Discover Hippo rolls out of the way of Barbarian King’s enormous fists just in time, narrowly avoiding being squished.

Discover Hippo continues running, continuing to take Yuya in search of more Action Cards.

Strong Ishijima narrows his eyes. “To use an Action Card in such a way… he really is the son of Sakaki Yusho. But you can’t stop a Pro like that! If Barbarian King was Advance Summoned by using Barbarian Monsters as Tributes, it can attack twice during the same turn!”

Damn. “Eh!? A second attack!?” He spies an Action Card out of the corner of his eye, just where it had been earlier, and the dust cloud from Barbarian King’s gargantuan arms hitting the ground covers his grin as he grabs and sets the card on his Duel Disk.

 _“That settles it!”_ Nico Smiley proclaims. _“Barbarian King’s 3000 Attack points have pulverized Discover Hippo…”_ But Discover Hippo runs out of the range of the blast with Yuya still on his back. _“… or not!”_

“What the hell!?”

Yuya beams openly. “Phew, I made it! I activated the Action Card, Miracle! Due to its effects, my monster’s destruction was negated, and the Battle Damage was halved!” He’s still got 2900 Life Points, which is more than enough.

The crowd goes wild. Yuya can’t help but bask in it. This is what he’s always wanted, to feel all those eyes on him as he performs to his best, capturing the hearts and minds of his audience with his Action Duel. Is this how his father had felt?

“Hmph, oh well,” Strong Ishijima mutters. “I set one card, and end my turn.”

“My turn! Draw!” And it just so happens that the card Yuya draws is just the one he wants. “Here it comes!” Discover Hippo takes up right up to the highest platform where the people in the stands can see him the best. “Now then, dear viewers, we are just about to reach the climax! Entermate Discover Hippo can be treated as two Tributes for an Advance Summon!” Discover Hippo runs forwards, picking up speed, until it launches itself right off the edge of the platform. Sailing through the air, Yuya continues to grin. “I release my Discover Hippo! Advance Summon!”

Discover Hippo vanishes, but Yuya isn’t worried about falling at all. “Please welcome him!” He tosses the rest of his costume from his body at last, revealing his normal clothes underneath. “Today’s main star is a very rare and strange dragon with heterochromatic eyes! Odd-Eyes Dragon!” Yuya lands safely on Odd-Eyes’ back, and grins the pale beige horns protruding from its back to steady himself. “The fun is just beginning!”

His father’s catchphrase, but now, it’s Yuya’s catchphrase too. He’s going to do Entertainment Duelling like his father, and he’s not going to live in the shadows anymore. He will discard fear and doubt, and he will win.

“Don’t you dare repeat your spineless old man’s words!” Strong Ishijima spits.

“He isn’t spineless!” Yuya snaps back at him.

“What?”

Yuya clenches his right fist. “I’ll beat you with the knowledge that I got from him, and prove that dad was stronger than you or anyone else in Duels!”

Strong Ishijima snorts. “Hmph, your dragon’s only got 2500 Attack Points. It doesn’t stand a chance against my 3000 Attack Point Battleguard King!”

Oh-ho. “I wonder about that,” Yuya drawls, unable to keep the smug excitement out of his voice. “Continuous Magic, Wonder Balloon!”

He jumps for another Action Card, which Nico Smiley broadcasts to the audience as well. _“Whoa! Yuya is gathering Action Cards one after another, and keeps sending them to the Graveyard!”_

“Take flight, Wonder Balloon! Each time I send a card I added to my hand to the Graveyard, Wonder Balloon increases the number of balloons by one. And then if I send the card itself to the Graveyard, the balloons pop, and after each of them, a monster loses 1000 Attack Points until the end of this turn.”

Yuya sends Wonder Balloon to the Graveyard, and the three balloons generated from the three Action Cards he’s used pop. “Three balloons have popped! Which means that Barbarian King’s Attack Points have fallen to zero!” Barbarian King is encased by the three balloons, vulnerable and ready to be struck.

“W-What is this? Using Action Cards like that!?” Nico Smiley is astonished, but the audience loves it. They’re cheering for Yuya now.

“You can only have one Action Card in your hand,” Strong Ishijima says. “You acted like you were just running around, while actually, you were looking for places where Action Cards were.”

Yuya smiles and holds up his pendant, which still hangs loosely around his neck. “I’ve been good at finding things since I was a kid.”

He stares around at the stadium, feeling the crowd’s enjoyment flood through him. The applause, the cheering, it’s wonderful. This is the kind of ovations that his father had received; had he felt like this then? “Let’s go, Odd-Eyes! We’ll excite the crowd some more! When Odd-Eyes Dragon destroys a Level 5 or higher monster, it inflicts damage equal to half of its original Attack Points.”

“Wha—?” Strong Ishijima does the math for him. “Barbarian King’s original Attack Points halved is 1500. Together with the 2500 Battle Damage I’ll take, it adds up to 4000 damage!”

Which, incidentally, is exactly how many Life Points he has.

“With this, my One Shot Kill is completed! Battle! Odd-Eyes Dragon! Attack his Battleguard King! Spiral Flame!”

Odd-Eyes’ attack collides with Strong Ishijima, but when the smoke clears, Barbarian King is still there. Strong Ishijima stands triumphant with an Action Card shining on his Duel Disk. “I activated an Action Magic as well! Miracle, which you just used a little while ago!”

 _“That’s the champion for you!”_ Nico Smiley cries, just as Yuya’s face falls. _“He obtained an overlooked Action Card!”_

“In the end, this is all that there is to Sakaki Yusho’s Duelling!” Strong Ishijima shouts, jumping down from the castle to the grass below. “I activate my Continuous Trap, Barbarian Rage! Whenever I receive Battle Damage, a Barbarian Monster’s Attack Points increase by 2000!”

Yuya makes a noise of discontent. There’s nothing else he can do for now. “I end my turn.”

_“At the end of the turn, Wonder Balloon’s effect wears off, and the decreased Attack Points return to normal!”_

Uh oh. And with the 2000 point increase from the Continuous Trap, Barbarian King now has a whopping 5000 Attack Points, and Yuya’s main strategy has just fallen through. Strong Ishijima stands tall on the rock ledge behind his monster. “Now… I’ll make you regret this! My turn!”

Yuya turns to look for more Action Cards; there should be one nearby if he’s remembering right—

“I won’t let you escape! Battle! Barbarian King Battleguard! Attack Odd-Eyes Dragon!”

He’s too late. Barbarian King’s hit collides just as Yuya’s fingertips are inches away from grabbing an Action Card, and Odd-Eyes Dragon dissolves beneath him. Yuya crashes to the ground painfully as his Life Points sink to a measly 400.

“Due to Barbarian Rage’s effect, the monster I destroyed goes back into your hand instead of going to the Graveyard.” That doesn’t make it any less insulting to have his ace monster destroyed, but at least Yuya might be able to summon Odd-Eyes again. “I also activate a Quick-Play Magic, Battleguard Magic! I’ll be gaining Life Points equal to half the Attack Points of the Odd-Eyes Dragon that was sent back to your hand.”

Strong Ishijima has 4000 Life Points again, and his boss monster has 5000 Attack Points. Yuya has 400 Life Points and nothing on the field.

Crap.

“Barbarian King can only attack _monsters_ a second time. You managed to survive. I set a card face-down and end my turn. It’s your turn now. Draw already!”

Yuya stays silent. He’s screwed, he’s totally screwed, and things had been going so well not even five minutes ago. He doesn’t know what to do.

“Or would you rather surrender? Like your old man, with his tail between his legs?”

“No way!” Yuya cries instantly. “I won’t run aw—” He cuts himself off. All he has in his hand are monster cards, nothing he can use.

So standing in for his dad was impossible, after all. Yuya’s never going to be like his father. He’ll lose to Strong Ishijima here and become even more of a laughingstock.

 _“When you feel like crying, just laugh.”_ Yusho’s words echo in his mind, the ones that had brought Yuya the determination to come to the match in the first place. _“If you swing forward, you’ll always swing back. If you curl up because of fear, you won’t be able to do anything. If you want to win, then bring out your courage and step forward!”_

Yuya repeats the last few words out loud, and feels confidence race through him. “Swing, Pendulum! Further…! Even further!” Electricity crackles and shoots along every nerve he has, and he feels alive. When Yuya draws, he feels it with his whole body, like something spectacular is about to happen.

One card. Yuya turns over the card he’s drawn with trembling fingers, wondering if it’ll be his salvation.

Polymerization.

Yuya stares dumbly at it. No, that isn’t right. Why…? Why does he have this card? He drew something else here, didn’t he? He drew—

Yuzu’s fan smacks into the back of his head. “Yuya, you blockhead!”

“Oww… Huh?” Yuya sits up, rubbing at where she hit him, and blearily glances around. Oh, he’s on the floor of the classroom. His teacher looks kind of mad. “S-Sorry!”

The bell rings just in time for him to dash for the door. Yuzu chases him, and when she catches up, she crosses her arms angrily. “Geez, Yuya. You’ve been sleeping in class way too much!”

Yuya waves dismissively, grinning. “Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

Yuzu seems to puff up a little. “You’re not listening to me!! If you keep this up—” She jabs a finger at him, and the silver bracelet on her wrist gleams. “—you could get yourself killed! We have to be on our guards!”

Yuya tugs at his tie and resents everything, resents the dreary grey clouds outside, resents the broken down building they’ve made their temporary base, resents the destroyed rubble of the tower that was once their beacon of hope, resents the fact that she’s right—

He shakes his head and blinks. The sky outside is blue. “Sorry, what were you saying?” 

“I _said_ , if you keep this up, I won’t be able to bail you out and you’ll get detention!”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

A small crease appears between Yuzu’s brows. “What’s gotten into you today? This isn’t like you, Yuya, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Yuya insists. What had he been thinking, anyway? Something about towers? Outside, the golden spires of the Heart Tower gleam.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, and before Yuya knows it, he’s back on the driveway of the You Show Duel School.

_“Cleaning. Cleaning. Cleaning.”_

“Huh?”

White and blue robots wheel past him. As Yuya watches, one uses its long silver arms to pick up a stray can and put it in its mouth. Nobody else seems to be taking any notice of them, like they’re an ordinary part of life.

Yuzu tugs on his arm. “What are you doing, Yuya? Come on, let’s go.”

Yuya points at the robot, feeling kind of silly. “What are those?”

“What do you mean, _‘what are those,’_ they’re the O-Bots, Yuya. You see them every day!”

Oh, right. Yuya nods, his head feeling full of fog, and understands. Yes, he remembers the O-Bots, they keep the city clean. One got stuck in the bushes outside of his house when he was six, and another time he’d found a broken one and he and Shun had gone through it, looking for treasure. They’d found nothing but garbage, of course, but it’d been fun.

Yuzu huffs and goes inside, and Yuya scrambles to follow her. As soon as he gets in, he’s hit in the head with a balled-up candy wrapper.

“You’re late, Yuya!”

“I’m not late, you just show up way too early!” Yuya retorts. “And don’t throw things at people!”

Sora sticks his tongue out at him. Yuya puts his hands on his hips and pretends to be mad, but is forced to drop it and duck when Sora aims another wrapper at his head. “Oi!”

“ _Boys,_ ” Yuzu mutters in disgust.

“Sorry, Yuzu!” they chorus, and earn a sigh of frustration. Yuya laughs in response, turning to look to the other door where Shuzo should come in soon, and freezes.

There’s a full-length mirror on the wall. It’s just a plain rectangle without a frame, but the actual appearance of the mirror isn’t Yuya’s concern. No, it’s his reflection that concerns him.

His hair moves on its own like a crown of vipers, curling and lashing in a non-existent wind. His jacket is moving the same way, and an aura of darkness seems to thrum and churn around his body. His eyes are deep-set; his pupils are blown wide open, and their solid blackness contrasts sharply with his glowing irises.

Yuya’s reflection smiles, its mouth stretching wider than any human’s can, revealing a gaping maw of jagged teeth.

Yuya gasps.

The mirror shatters. The pieces scatter across the floor, all reflecting him, reflecting his red eyes and his grey eyes and the clunky seams that hold them together, reflecting the ragged holes in his body where white and purple were torn from him. They reflect his white jacket and his black cape, his goggles with the star on the left and the broken lens on the left, his pendulum, his pendulum, his pendulum.

It swings. It swings from shard to shard, swinging over torn clothing and open ribs; back and forth, back and forth. The pendulum swings and Yuya’s mind swings with it. Back and forth, left to right, Yuya to Yuto, Yuto to Yuya, right to left, forth and back.

“Yuya!”

Yuzu’s voice breaks the trance, and Yuya surfaces. But even though he can think clearly now, the glass is still there. The mirror has broken into tiny, irreparable pieces, and each one shines one of four colours – red, black, white, purple. The pendulum still swings, threatening to draw Yuya back in.

“ _Yuuuuya,_ ” his reflection sings.

“Go away,” Yuya tells it.

It laughs, and as it laughs, its mouth spreads out across the ground until it’s all of it that Yuya can see. It’s just his mouth, three metres wide; it’s even got the tiny chip off his right incisor that he got when he was ten.

“Come back, Yuya,” it says.

Yuya shakes his head. The others have gone quiet behind him, and all he can hear from them is Yuzu hushing the children’s whispers. Tatsuya sounds curious, but this isn’t something for others to investigate. This is Yuya’s problem.

This is Yuya.

His mouth opens wider until Yuya can see every tooth, and then the arms begin to clamber out. They’re his arms for sure, because they have the same shape and the same hands as the ones attached to Yuya’s shoulders. But they’re dressed a little differently; uniformed in violet with two silver buttons on the cuffs. But just because they wear different clothes doesn’t mean they’re not the same.

The arms drag themselves along by their hands. They’ve been severed where they should join to shoulders, and they trail spots of blood and bone marrow in their wake. Dimly, Yuya can hear ear-piercing screams behind himself, and knows that he should probably run away.

He can’t, though. Well, he _can_ , but he’s spellbound, and they’d just chase him anyway. So Yuya lets the arms claw at him and drag him along, and he lets them pull him into his mouth.

His mouth closes and swallows, and Yuya falls.

Yuya falls until he isn’t falling anymore. The ground beneath him can’t really be called _ground_ , because it blends into the endless void around him seamlessly. There is nothing. He is nowhere.

He wanders aimlessly, searching for landmarks, searching for the end of the expanse of blackness, but there isn’t one. Just darkness as far as the eye can see. He could be going in circles and not have a clue.

Oh. He’s been stupid. Yuya’s been looking around and searching everywhere, but there’s been a simple solution this whole time.

He looks up.

The sky has a billion facets, serrated and uneven and going on for miles upon glimmering miles of crystal. Things are encased in it – that’s all Yuya can think to call them; they’re too horrific for words otherwise. Some have human features mixed amongst the extra limbs and unearthly body parts, and others are entirely beasts. Suspended in the centre of them all is the shadow of a great dragon, and the crystal is warped beneath it, directly above Yuya’s head.

It spirals down and down in delicate double helixes, and the spines part to let a single arm through. It’s uniformed in violet with two silver buttons on the cuff, and the fingertips are mere inches from touching the top of Yuya’s head.

This arm isn’t severed. The rest of its owner’s body is encased in crystal, and Yuya’s reflection’s eyes are shut. He looks like he’s sleeping. Yuya observes him for a long moment, tracing the familiar contours of his face, the long, inky shadow of his lashes resting on his cheeks, his lips, pale and parted against the crystal. It strikes Yuya, suddenly, that Yuri looks the most like him when he is at his weakest. _Oh._

The thought stirs something stupid but curious in him. He reaches up without thinking, and brushes his fingers against Yuri’s.

Yuri’s eyes flutter open.

He stares down at Yuya with large fuchsia irises, regarding Yuya with the same curiosity that Yuya regards him with. What is Yuri doing up there, anyway? How has he found this place?

Yuri breathes on the crystal beneath him, and it fogs like glass. With his left hand, the one not trapped in the translucent spires, he writes on the small spot, quickly before it fades.

_Let me in._

Yuya frowns. Yuri’s the one who’s ‘in’. Shouldn’t he be asking to be let out?

Yuri taps on the crystal with his knuckles, looking impatient. He opens his mouth and speaks, but no sound comes through. He settles for writing on the crystal again.

_Let me in._

“Go away,” Yuya says.

_Let me in._

“Go away.”

_Let_

_me_

_in._

“Go away.”

Yuri hesitates, like the next words pain him to write. _Please, Yuya._

Yuya grabs his hand. The crystal unwinds, opening up like a mouth, dangling Yuri between its pearly teeth. For a second, Yuya catches a glimpse of the monsters’ true faces without blur. They look like sunlight.

Yuri falls onto him, and the world warps violet. Yuya is blinded for a moment, and as he blinks the purple spirals out of his eyes, Yuri stands and moves away from him. For some reason, this is disappointing.

“We have to go,” Yuri tells him, and then crosses his arms like he’s expecting something.

Yuya frowns at him. He seems to do that an awful lot in Yuri’s presence. “Go where?”

“Back,” Yuri says, as if everybody should know what that means.

But Yuya does know, now. Relief tinted with joy floods through him. “Back to You Show?”

“What?” This time, Yuri’s the one to frown. He frowns harder than Yuya does. He must do it a lot. “No, you idiot. Back to—” The sound stops coming from his mouth, suddenly. His lips are moving, but his voice is gone.

Yuya isn’t really concerned. “Are we going back to You Show now?”

“No.” Yuri blinks. “Back to—” His voice goes again. “I can’t say it. It’s obvious enough, so you should be able to figure it out yourself.”

“I have,” Yuya says impatiently. “Back to You Show.”

Yuri scowls. “I don’t know what that is. Stop being stupid and start making sense.”

Yuya scowls back at him. “It’s—”

The pathway winds out under his feet. There’s no show of light like when an Action Field materialises; it’s just suddenly there, like it always was. Grass springs up along the edges, sweeping out into a full lawn in front of the You Show Duel School. It’s there; illuminated like it’s in the sun, but there is no sun and no sky.

Yuya goes to walk towards it, but Yuri grabs his jacket and yanks him back. “ _No,_ ” he snarls. “Don’t you dare hide from me. Come back and—”

“I’m not hiding,” Yuya replies indignantly. “You can come with me if you want.”

“That’s not what I meant! Why won’t you realise—?”

“C’mon, Yuri, let’s go!”

The use of his name doesn’t reassure Yuri in the least. In fact, he curls his lip and narrows his eyes further. “Yuya, w—” His voice goes once more, and he doesn’t even bother to try to finish his sentence.

Yuya grabs Yuri’s hand to pull him along, and that’s when it all goes wrong. Wrong-er, anyway.

Their hands sink into each other. There’s a sickening sizzling noise upon contact; the sound of flesh melting into flesh. Yuya stares at the grotesque lump of viscera that had been his right hand a second ago, feeling kind of numb. It’s still hot, simmering like metal just removed from the forge, but it’s rapidly cooling—

Yuri lurches away from him with a bloodcurdling screech. There’s something wild and terrified in his face that Yuya has never seen before, and he isn’t sure how to feel about it. The vindictive part of himself revels in it, while the rest is horrified.

Their hands separate with a wet groan like a bone popping out of its socket, and their fingers untangle from the twisted, complex knots they’ve formed. Yuya flexes his hand, and then stares.

Yuri’s left hand is gone. It’s just… gone. The stump of his wrist rounds off with no stitches or marks, like there was never anything there in the first place. The skin is smooth, and it looks strangely natural.

Yuri doesn’t seem to think so, though. “Give it back,” he hisses, staring at Yuya’s right hand.

Fascinated, Yuya holds it up to his face. Some of his fingers have doubled in length – others split into two and branch out at the knuckle. As he watches, the extra digits sink down and sprout out elsewhere, wriggling like insects.

He doesn’t know how to give Yuri’s hand back. He doesn’t think he can. It’s already ingrained into him, and the longer it’s in him, the more it becomes a part of him, sprouting black scales on the palm of his hand. But the longer he stares at it, the more uncomfortable he feels. It looks wrong. Yuya doesn’t want it.

Maybe he can give it back through the same method that he took it. Yuya can see enragement and something like fear in Yuri’s face when he brings his double-hand to Yuri’s blunt wrist, and hopes he can get rid of this sudden burden.

Things are never that easy. The stench of burning meat reaches Yuya’s nose the second they touch, and he tries not to wince. Strangely enough, the actual joining feels like an itch he can’t scratch. Yuya leaves them joined for only a few seconds, and then slowly pulls back. Perhaps Yuri panicking and jumping back too quickly had caused the problem.

Evidently not. It’s even more nauseating when they do it slowly; melted flesh stretches and clings to them in strings, tearing slowly, and as Yuya pulls back, he pulls more of Yuri with him. He’s taking Yuri’s whole arm this time – Yuya can see it happening, and knows it’s not too late to stop it, but he just can’t. Something is chattering and egging him on. It feels like cold breath on his neck and the sweet stench of decay, and it wants Yuya to absorb Yuri entirely. Yuya moves forwards, ready to shove his arm further in and take Yuri’s lungs, suck out tendons and arteries and meld them together—

Yuri bolts. His empty left sleeve dangles uselessly at his side, and the lack of weight on that side of his body throws his balance off as he runs, but he’s desperate to escape. Yuya gives chase instinctively, his vision narrowing to show nothing but his quarry.

They run at the same speed. It makes sense; after all, they’re exactly the same. If their roles had been reversed, Yuri would have already torn Yuya to pieces.

Yuya stretches his right arm forward, and uses Yuri’s own flesh to slash at his back. Yuri’s uniform hides the injuries, but from the choked cry that escapes him, Yuya rends more than just skin off his back. It’s a shame that his cape is red; the blood blends seamlessly with the fabric.

They run, and they run, probably going in circles. The void wavers and vacillates beneath Yuya’s feet, and cold wetness begins to soak into his shoes. Yuya takes a risk and tears his eyes away from Yuri’s back, choosing to look down.

He’s standing on a great black lake. The ripples his steps make travel out in every direction, seeming never-ending. Their movement disturbs the cover of absolute darkness, allowing Yuya to see the depths of the lake.

Just underneath him, his reflection drifts along an unseen current. His eyes are closed, and his black hair floats around his face like a halo of shadow. He would look relaxed, but the permanent lines between his brows make him look troubled, even in sleep.

Yuya stares at his reflection and the black wings slowly unfolding deeper in the water, and then glances back up at the cracked crystal sky. The sealed monsters are twitching, becoming more and more restless as Yuri struggles to climb up to them.

Yuya dangles on a precipice between two worlds, and he must choose between up or down. The world above is scalding sunlight, and the world below is soft, watery shadow. Yuya’s seen into that world above – there’s nothing there for him but suffering, and the thought of baring himself to its blistering rays makes him flinch.

The world below looks so comforting. If he dives down now, the darkness will embrace him like an old friend. It looks almost alluring – there is something more, deeper down, something strong and hateful. But it doesn’t hate Yuya, he knows that instinctively. It will protect him, it will swallow his soul so he can sleep inside it, just like Yuto.

But Yuto doesn’t look content. His hands are gripping each other tightly where they’re laid on his chest, and his clothes are still worn and tattered. He looks frozen in time, preserved and imprisoned.

The wings beat slowly, chattering and singing at him, ready to take off.

If Yuya breaks the surface of the water, something else will be able to come out. If Yuya goes beneath the water, something else will take his place above.

He can’t stay here. Even if Yuya goes back to You Show, the temptation will always be there. As long as he stays here, the beast will continue to try to ensnare him in its thrall, and over time, it will wear him down until he gives in.

Yuya kicks off the water, lunging upwards at the crystal sky. He hopes the ripples are small enough to wake Yuto without releasing the already awoken-beast, and then grabs for the nearest handle hold he can get.

Which just so happens to be the hem of Yuri’s coat. Yuya scrambles to grab onto the crystal spires to support himself, and he’s lucky enough to have those to balance himself with when Yuri kicks him.

The coat hasn’t dissolved because it’s fabric and not flesh, but there’s a hot crackle when Yuri’s heel connects with Yuya’s head. Yuya has no choice but to look at the wound as he climbs up. It’s not rounded off like Yuri’s wrist had been; it’s just neatly sliced off, baring bloody muscle.

Inevitably, Yuya and Yuri touch more as they climb, because Yuya climbs faster than Yuri can and the space is narrowing. Funny; it wasn’t even this big before, was it?

Yuya’s vision is bleeding. He’s seeing memories, that’s all he knows, some are his and some are purple, some swing through him like pendulums and some melt and fuse with his brain. Some even are black and sorrowful, made of hope and dust.

He pushes the wrong ones away. Yuya’s elbow digs into Yuri’s ribs, which liquefy on touch. It makes the memories stronger; they twist and snarl at him, wanting to burrow their thorns into him and become part of him. He has the holes to fit them, tears in his mind where his real memories have been eaten away, so why can’t he take the new ones?

Some slink and crawl, trying to remain unnoticed, and these are the ones that seep in. They’re dark and foggy, made of cold eyes and stone walls, and they feel like they’ve been Yuya’s all along.

It’s not right, though. The creatures in the crystal are shouting and running around, and Yuya really wants them to shut up and let him concentrate. They look like people, now that he can see them closely enough, people who aren’t misshapen or unearthly at all—

Yuya breaks the surface.

The daylight is beautiful.


End file.
